


Herr Doktor, der Blutsauger.

by MrMundy



Category: Team Fortress 2
Genre: Alternate Universe, Because that was probably obvious from the start, Dad Spy, Eventual Smut, Eventual non-class names, M/M, Monsters, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Slow Burn, Vampire Hunter Sniper, Vampire Medic, Vampires, but as for the actual romance, well there's some solo stuff here
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-09
Updated: 2017-10-04
Packaged: 2018-08-30 00:15:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 36,662
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8511388
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MrMundy/pseuds/MrMundy
Summary: “You’re the hunter, ja?” “Yeah, but only for those damn vampires creeping around. If you want me to go kill some nasty werewolf or ghoul I can refer you to someone, but--”“Nein!” His new contact immediately spoke up. “No, no. Vampires. I-- I have locations. Quite a few.  I can supply them to you, one at a time… I have money, I have quite a lot. I just have a… Special request. Nobody else has done this for me.”---------In which Sniper is a vampire hunter in a town of monster hunters, and Medic is his newest client - and a monster himself.  Things get messy, fast.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, this is my (hopefully not too cliche) vampire fic. The idea came from my girlfriend and I brainstorming ideas for AUs that we'd like to see and she urged me to write it.  
> Worldbuilding and lore all over the place for this AU. Hope you enjoy it.
> 
> Summary edited 12/22.

The scents of blood, of iron and decay, were so common that the Sniper had become accustomed to tuning such things out. Even with smears of trailed across the wall, he didn’t seem bothered. It was, instead, a sort of tracking system for him. As the blood got fresher, his target got closer. He stepped in a particularly fresh puddle and scowled – he hoped his boots didn’t stain.

He left footprints behind him as he made his way through the facility. An old bread factory closed due to hazardous conditions, he’d been contacted about a particular nuisance creeping the halls. People in the town were scared, but who wouldn’t be, with a blood-thirsty creature skulking the area?

The Sniper found a good spot to stop, crouched behind an old flour mill. It was coated in dust and debris from years of disuse. He tugged his hat lower, keeping the surrounding filth out of his face. Places like this always made him sick, breathing in waste and dust. When he got out, he knew he’d be blowing dust from his nose for the rest of the day.

He set himself up comfortably, his rifle positioned on the mill’s edge and his back leaned forward. His sunglasses made it easier to see in the dim lighting, their yellow tone bringing out the subtle color variations around him. They also helped to detect even the slightest movement.

Which was a very, very good thing, given the nature of his targets.

The sun was setting and the Sniper was getting ready for a long night in, but to his surprise, there was already shuffling from a few hundred feet ahead. He put his eye to his scope and watched, waiting for any sort of hint toward his target.

Apparently his target was desperate, creeping out when the sun was barely past the horizon. It was emaciated and its skin shriveled, its mouth agape to show horrendous fangs. It made wheezing noises that he could hear from where he was, his eyes trained on its head.

Its clawed hand dug into the wooden frame of a door, splinters raining from its grip. There came a noise of discomfort from its mouth but it didn’t react, occupied with its task of moving out of the facility. It crept closer to the mill, its movements slow and heavy. Apparently this one hadn’t fed properly in quite some time - the blood on the floor must have been its only sources of food.

The Sniper readied his trigger and steeled himself, waiting until the head of the creature was directly in his scope, barely a hundred feet away.

He pulled the trigger and watched as it fell, shrieking ungodly noises to the ceiling and clinging to the hole in its temple. Slinging his rifle over his back, the Sniper leapt from his hiding spot and pulled a piece of wood from his vest – carved into a sharp stake, he threw himself down toward the beast and shoved the piece of wood into its chest, where its heart would be. Another ungodly shriek and it fell limp, fingers beginning to crack into dust.

The Sniper frowned and kicked the dust from his boots, standing straight. Yet another job completed.

 

* * *

 

 

His contact called him later that day to meet with him for payment. He ended up waiting in a small coffee shop on the east side of town, a cozy place with brown walls and soft seats. He ordered a coffee and sat with his arm outstretched on the back of the booth, waiting for her to arrive.

Miss Pauling was always on time, arriving with a cup of tea in one hand and a purse slung over her opposite arm.

“Thanks for that, Mundy.” She said, sliding into the booth across from him. She shuffled a large envelope from her purse and slid it across the table to him. The Sniper didn't bother to check the amount inside; Miss Pauling was consistent in her payments. She was the most reliable source he had for these jobs, and sometimes he wondered where she got the cash to be paying him like this.

“No problem. You'll call when you get another, hey?”

Pauling nodded.

“We've been seeing a lot of activity around lately – and not just these bloodsuckers. People have been hearing rumors of other things… Werewolves, demons, wizards—“

“Slow down. You know I just kill vampires, right? I’m an old dog, Pauling. I ain't gonna learn to hunt ghosts or nothing while I've got this going for me.” Sniper leaned back into his booth, frowning. Pauling nodded slowly.

“Of course. Just warning you. In case, you know, you run into one.”

“Yeah. ‘Course. I’ll tell you if I happen across any of those… Things. But just contact me on the vampire cases, you hear me?” With that, the Sniper stood and left the coffee shop, headed back to his van with a huff.

 

* * *

 

 

He got another call that night while lounging in his camper. The Sniper was expecting Miss Pauling’s voice from the other end of the line, but he was greeted with someone completely different. A man’s voice, soft and seemingly hesitant. The voice was obviously not American, which… Wasn’t entirely too strange, what with so many people coming and going from the country constantly - the Sniper himself was a foreigner. What surprised him was the German accent, almost too heavy that he couldn’t understand the man.

Shifting on his couch, he adjusted the receiver closer to his ear and listened.

“You’re the hunter, _ja_?” It took the Sniper a few moments to figure out the man’s words in his head, but when he finally understood, he sighed.

“Yeah, but only for those damn vampires creeping around. If you want me to go kill some nasty werewolf or ghoul I can refer you to someone, but--”

“ _Nein_!” His new contact immediately spoke up. “No, no. Vampires. I-- I have locations. Quite a few.  I can supply them to you, one at a time… I have money, I have quite a lot. I just have a… Special request. Nobody else has done this for me.”

Intrigued, the Sniper tensed up. The stranger had his full attention, now. A special request usually meant a higher rate of pay, and while he had a lot of money at the moment, there was no telling when the need for a vampire hunter would cease.

“And that would be…?”

“I need you to gather samples. Blood, of course, yes, from the systems of the vampires. I’m experimenting, seeing what it is that they require, how one could possibly…  Cure them?” The man’s voice faltered, nervousness seeping through his words.

The Sniper bit his lip, thinking. There was something off about this guy - he’d never heard of anyone wanting to cure a vampire before. But then again, everyone was just out killing the things… A cure might be able to put things to rest once and for all. Sniper would be out a job, but he could make more than enough money that he could retire back to Australia. Collecting blood shouldn't be too hard of a job - just stab the vampires before they collapsed into dust and collect whatever he could. 

“You a scientist or something?”

“Yes - A doctor. I’m hoping to help victims of this particular affliction.” The man’s voice was still wavering. The radio on the other side of the camper buzzed with a somber song.

After several moments of silence, the Sniper relented and nodded against the phone. His eyes trailed around the contents of his van, darting from the counter tops to the windows.

“Alright. I’ll do it. You got a name I can call you?”

“Ah… You may refer to me as ‘Medic’... It is most recognizable to myself.”

“Medic? You fight in the war or something?” 

“Something like that. _Entschuldigung_ , I cannot tell you more than that. I can supply the first location to you tomorrow, if you’d meet me. I will be up at around four in the morning - I always visit the bakery on the north side of town first thing. Is that acceptable?”

Four in the morning? This guy must be a workaholic. It was early, but… As a hunter, Sniper didn’t sleep much as it was. He’d just have to grab some more coffee for the morning. He glanced at his coffee pot, empty on the counter top, and sighed. He'd have to head out tonight to get that, then.

“Yeah, sure. I’ll be there. Look for the big camper.”

“ _Danke_. I will meet you tomorrow, _Herr_ …” It took the Sniper a moment to realize what the doctor as asking of him.

“Oh. Sniper. Call me Sniper. I don’t like giving out my name to new clients.”

“Understandable. _Gute nacht_ , _Herr_ Sniper.”

When he hung up, the Sniper had to wonder what he was getting himself into.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sniper goes on his first contract for Medic. Things don't go as planned.

The next morning, three AM, the Sniper pulled his van in the parking lot of the bakery. It seemed like the only ones up were the employees, already visible busying themselves at the ovens. The windows cast a warm glow against the side of his van and the Australian found the moment peaceful. He could smell the bread and baked goods through his open window, and he relaxed against his couch with the radio softly playing. He had an hour before his client showed up, and everything was just right for a bit of a nap.

Only for a little while, he told himself, shuffling so his legs were straight, shoulders slumped.

He woke up to a knock on his camper door, causing him to jump and reach for the knife beside him.

For a few moments, he couldn’t register where he was, but then the soft sound of Bobby Darin’s “Beyond The Sea” and the scent of bread brought him back to the present. He flicked the radio down lower, a whisper against the low wind outside.

The knock repeated a few more times and the Sniper opened the door, knife strapped to his belt.

In the doorway stood a man almost of his height - it was hard to tell, since Sniper was standing in his camper and the man was outside, standing on the ground. His hair was pushed to the side and his glasses were falling down his nose, a light jacket pulled high enough to conceal his mouth. Blue eyes darted back and forth for several moments before the stranger spoke. The lines near his eyes crinkled as he pushed his glasses back up.

“ _Herr_ Sniper?”

So this was that doctor. He was older, which shouldn’t have been a surprise. Sniper leaned against his doorframe, tilting his head slightly.

“Yeah. I take it you’ve got info on this place?”

“ _Ja_. Here--” The man rummaged in his jacket, pulling forth a large, square envelope. “Half the initial payment is in there… Should you wish to negotiate more, I am more than willing.”

The Sniper took the envelope and opened it, peering inside - the sum of money was, in fact, hefty. He didn’t need to count it to see that the stacks of bills were more than enough to cover a single job. He hoped. There were also syringes and vials packed away at the bottom of the envelope, clinking with every movement.

“This is fine, mate. Should I look at the info, or-- You got somewhere to be?”

The doctor was already turning around. He waved a hand.

“Work-- I wish you luck on this job, _Herr_ Sniper! Don’t forget my blood!”

Well, that was a phrase Sniper never thought he’d hear. Whatever, he supposed, and closed the camper door. Now, to get a good look at these papers…

 

* * *

 

 

It was another hour before Sniper got himself on the road. The papers indicated a place an hour away, if he followed the highways. It’d add time on to take back roads, so he opted not to - he wanted to get a good feeling for the place he’d have to set up his hunt during the daytime.

The old camper ran perfectly down the highways, radio turned up loud enough that the Sniper could hear over the wind through the open windows. It felt nice to drive for more than a half an hour to get to a job - Miss Pauling always had him take cases so near to Teufort that he felt he’d never get a chance to leave and see new sights. While he enjoyed his job well enough and found Miss Pauling to be easy company, he wanted to leave sometimes.

So this job was nice. Even if the man that gave it to him was just a little strange. Perhaps, also, from what he could tell, a rather handsome man - but Sniper had no time to be thinking of that. He was a loner, really, and could do his job without needing human companionship.

With another forty-five minutes of driving ahead of him, the radio started playing a song by The Capris that had his hands tapping the wheel.

 

* * *

 

 

When he finally arrived at his destination, the Sniper took the day learning his surroundings. The exact location was an old farm, the couple living on it stating that they’d had trouble in some of the barns. A few of their cows had been injured and there was blood in the hay - Sniper had heard of animal-killing vampires, but most of the ones he hunted had gone after humans. Well, he was getting paid. It didn’t matter what the bloodsucker was hunting.

The couple let him rummage the barns for the day, fed him lunch even at his insistence that he didn’t need it.

When dusk finally arrived, he set himself up to wait for his target.

Targets, he corrected himself.

Three figures slunk out of the dark, brushing away hay and dirt from the barn’s interior. The cows began stomping their feet, making noise to try to scare away the predators. Positioned on a rafter, the Sniper aimed his bow to get the best shot he could, as quick as he could on all three.

One was creeping its way around one of the cows, the second was closing the door. The third-- The third was missing from his sights, but he was sure he could handle things.

The tallest of the two on the ground grabbed a cow and sank its claws in, hissing at the scent of blood being drawn. The other waited patiently, shoulders hunched. Sniper took his shot, the shorter of the two falling to its knees with a loud, unearthly shriek. The second was hit in its shoulder and whipped around, hissing and baring its teeth. Sniper threw himself down from the rafters and swung his leg under the still-standing vampire, drawing his stakes from his vest.

He felt a sharp pain in his side as the felled vampire clawed at him, and he stomped on its arm. The stake in his left hand drove into its chest as he swept, the taller of the two grabbing at his arms to pin him. The creature stunk of decay and blood and it made Sniper’s stomach flip being so close to it.

With another swing of his arms, he stabbed the taller in the chest as well, pushing its claws from his chest before it could sink its grip into him. He watched the two of them shriek and cry as they turned to ash, taking a breath to assess the situation. Two were down, and the third was nowhere to be seen. He couldn’t collect the other half of his payment, or the blood needed for the doctor’s experiments at this rate.

Sniper pulled the syringes from his jacket, testing it in his hand. The plunger went down easily and he tucked it in his hand, waiting for the next sign of movement.

He didn’t expect to be lifted by the back of the neck, feet dangling inches off the ground. Sniper squirmed, the smell of blood and flesh too close for comfort. The third vampire turned him around to examine him, its face mostly covered by darkness. Its breath was strong, making Sniper wince as he was handled. Its hands were at least large enough to wrap around his torso.

The creature brought him forward, sniffing at his skin.  With a sinister grin, it opened its mouth, revealing fangs as long as Sniper’s index finger. Heart racing, the Sniper knew he had to act fast. He had holy water in his pouch, rosaries and garlic on his belt, stakes and arrows strapped to him…

Syringe still in hand, Sniper squirmed until he could stab the beast-like vampire in its arm. He pulled the plunger on the syringe and watched the blood fill the tube as the vampire shrieked, shaking its arms to get rid of the tool while still keeping a grip on Sniper. Using the movement as assistance, Sniper swung his legs up and managed to catch a foot behind the vampire’s head. Closer now, he could see the details of its face - his face, he was definitely masculine - stubble and dark hair, sunken eyes and sideburns adding to the beast-like appearance.

His other leg swung and kicked the vampire in the chest, staggering him long enough for him to reach the jar of water on his side. The glass cracked as he slammed it against the vampire’s head, smoke rising from wherever contact was made with his skin. Shrieks filled the air as the vampire dropped Sniper, tearing the syringe from his arm. He tossed it to the ground beside the fallen Australian, clawing at his face to rid himself of the spilled holy water.

Sniper recovered enough to grab the syringe at his side, putting it away inside of his vest. The vampire, however, had managed to pull himself together just enough to stomp on the Sniper’s leg, then slink off into the dark as Sniper yelled in pain.

For several minutes, the barn was quiet - the cows had even gone silent, the only thing Sniper could hear was the pounding of his own heart in his ears. The vampire seemed to have gotten away, but he had killed the other two and managed to get a large sample of blood… And that’s what mattered.

When he finally managed to get himself together, Sniper limped toward the couple’s home on the farmland to tell them what had happened.

 

* * *

 

 

Patched up and feeling a lot better than he had after being trampled by an oversized vampire, the Sniper took off back toward Teufort the next day to meet with the doctor once again. He called him about half an hour into his trip, explaining the details of the encounter while parked at a rest stop.

“Yeah, doc, I got the blood, but-- You should’ve seen the size of that guy. I ain’t ever seen a vampire that big.”

“Big? What do you mean by big - tall?”

“Nah, more like… This guy was unnaturally huge. He lifted me up with one hand. I was sure I was gonna die for a minute there.”

The doctor’s side of the line went silent for several moments, and Sniper got nervous. Maybe he’d said too much?

“This is interesting information. We can discuss more of this when we are in person, _ja_?”

“Yeah. I’ll be back in Teufort around… Ten tonight? I’m gonna knock out for a few. That alright with you?”

“.. _.Ja_ , _Herr_ Sniper. It is fine. Meet me at The Wheel Bar. I’ll have the rest of your payment.”

“No problem, doc. See ya.”

After the call ended, it took Sniper a good forty-five minutes to fall asleep. Even then, his dreams were filled with blood sucking monsters the size of bears chasing him down.

At the other end of the line, the Medic went _back_ to sleep.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hope this is worth the wait. :v

The Wheel Bar was a small place on the south side of Teufort, its interior rustic and modern at the same time. Wagon wheels were turned into light fixtures and the booths were made of old oak wood and a dark red fabric. Altogether, the entire place was somewhere that the Sniper could find himself spending quite a few hours in. He’d arrived a little after ten, stumbling in through the door with the envelope in his hands. Brown eyes scanned the area for the doctor.

And there the doctor was, sitting alone at the booth in the darkest corner of the bar, a singular drink in front of him. He was wearing a scarf, which perplexed Sniper - they were indoors, for one, and in New Mexico. It was hot enough outside that even a coat was enough to make someone sweat right through their layers.

Nonetheless, Sniper sat himself down across from Medic, sliding the envelope into his reach. Medic slowly opened the end of it, peering inside - he seemed satisfied with the vial inside and dropped another envelope onto the table before speaking.

“So this… Large man, what was he like?”

“Big. Tall. Made a noise like a bear.”

“More than that. Did he speak? What was he wearing? How old did he look--?”

“Slow down, doc.” Sniper put his hand up, shaking his head slightly. “I’ll tell you everything in just a second. First, can you tell me why you’re so interested in this guy?”

The Medic’s face fell for a moment, and then he straightened his shoulders and peered at Sniper down his nose.

“I know someone who is rather… He fits the description of an ‘unnaturally large man’ very well.  For a moment, I was… Concerned that he might have…”

Oh.

“You scared your friend might have gotten hit too, huh?”

“Too?” The Medic’s face contorted in shock, and he adjusted his glasses while somehow keeping his scarf in place. “Oh. _Ja_ , I… He’s my closest friend, I don’t know what I’d do if he…”

Sniper nodded. He had never really considered that these creatures - people? - he was killing may have once been kind souls. To think that there’s the chance that he could be killing someone’s best friend, lover, child…

“If you’re worried about him, doc, just tell me what he’s like and I’ll keep an eye out for you.”

Medic nodded slowly, going into detail about his friend, with Sniper listening patiently.

 

* * *

 

After their encounter in the bar, Sniper had learned quite a few things about the doctor. For one, he was a German immigrant who’d come to the states to find work - apparently the village he came from was quite small, and had no need for more than a few doctors. His friend, the one he’d mentioned, was a burly Russian man with a heart of gold. Medic had been worried sick over the state of his friend, last hearing that he’d gone back to Siberia to care for his sisters and mother.

He’d also said something about missing his family. When Sniper had suggested he take a trip back to Europe to visit, he’d simply said that he couldn’t go back. The pained look in his eyes had convinced Sniper not to pry, but he couldn’t deny that he was curious.

They’d talked about Sniper’s family, as well - his parents back in Australia, how he’d gotten started hunting vampires… It had felt more like the two were getting to know each other than a discussion of work. Even still, Medic had given Sniper a new envelope of information. While he looked through the stack of papers, Sniper realized that Medic was sending him in directions all over - he had three stops on this route, all of which were a bit off the beaten path.

Made him really wonder what was going on.

 

* * *

 

 

The next few days, the Sniper was trucking place to place, stopping in diners for food and hopping along on his way. He slept in the back of the camper rather than drop money on any motels in the area (who knew if they were safe or not?) and figured this trip would go smoothly.

It did _not_ go smoothly.

For one, the first hit he had was on another ranch, and the old man at the door had told him that he’d take care of the vampires on his own, thank you very much. That meant he had to trespass to get what he needed, but it wasn’t like he hadn’t done so before.

Upon his quick and silent kill of the vampire on the ranch, he started thinking.

 

The next kill, in an abandoned mansion on the side of the road, had him really wondering. It also left his wrist sprained, leaving him to rest and heal.

 

On the third and final kill, he came to a realization. All of the vampires that Medic had him going after were ones that were recently fed, or ones who had a constant supply of blood. They were faster, stronger, and more terrifying than any others he’d faced before. That had to mean something… but what?

He was leaving the third kill’s location - an old warehouse, long since abandoned - when he heard someone following him. Sniper turned, holding his rifle as steady as possible as he looked for the source of the sound.

“You again?!” He heard a crash of old wooden boxes being thrown to the side, and as he backed toward the entrance, the larger-than-a-bear vampire he’d met before came from the shadows.

He’d never known a vampire to talk - they were all far too gone and desperate for blood to remember their knowledge of language. Most just shrieked and growled. This one, apparently, had things to say.

“Don’t think I’ve forgotten who you are, hunter.” The vampire’s voice was low, nearly a growl. Sniper noticed then that he was wearing goggles now - maybe the holy water last time had done a lot more damage than he thought.  “I don’t know what you’re doing, and I don’t know why, but I know you’re killing my men--”

He gestured toward the pile of ashes next to him.

“Just doing my job, mate.” Was all Sniper got to say before the vampire lunged for him. He yelped and moved to the right, trying to steady his hands so he could at least shoot the damn beast. He wasn’t good with close-range when it came to firearms, but he was willing to try.

He lined up a shot and fired, hitting the vampire in his arm. Blood seeped from the wound, and Sniper had to admit that he was a little surprised at that fact. He assumed that vampires kept all of their blood, well, inside - he never thought they’d have it running through their systems like a normal human.

Then again, he was stabbing them with syringes and taking the stuff from their bodies, so maybe he should have made that observation before.

Sniper didn't have time to think about that, though. He was too preoccupied escaping from a monster.

He wasn't one to run from a fight. He wasn't one to leave the situation unsolved. But with his wrist still hurting and, honestly, his arm still pained from his first encounter with this specific vampire, Sniper wasn't too keen on trying to win this fight.

His camper was outside - he shot again, this time aiming for the leg. That gave him enough of a head start to reach his vehicle.

Throwing himself inside of his camper, Sniper started the engine and floored it, checking his mirrors to make sure he wasn't being followed. When he was certain that the vampire had no way of catching up to him, he lowered his speed, his heart still pounding. Hands shaking against the wheel, Sniper had the thought to call everything off, even if it was only the second contract. He wasn’t sure if he could deal with having to fight a monster like that…

But then, he thought, he already knew his face. The oversized vampire could easily find him if he tried to drop the jobs, and he’d most likely have to deal with him even so. As the Sniper neared a town, he tried to think of options.

Maybe be could team up with some other monster hunters. He knew Teufort had a group dedicated to monster hunting… He could ask them. They were great drinking buddies, but he usually stayed away during work, preferring to work on his own. With a monster of that size, he wasn’t sure he could ever handle it alone. And there was no telling what else the guy had up his sleeve - the vampires Sniper had been killing were apparently his ‘men’, which meant he was probably a leader of some sort.

If he was the one finding sources for these vampires to get blood, there was no telling what else he might be doing.

Sniper pulled into an empty lot and parked, locking the doors of his van. He wasn’t going to try to sleep, but he knew he needed rest. A couple hours parked in the dark might help him clear his head.

 

* * *

 

In Teufort once more, the Sniper found himself in the company of a ragtag group of monster hunters. He knew all of them in the same sense that they knew him. They never shared their full names and they all knew each other's strengths and weaknesses, just in case they ever needed backup for a job.

Sniper's favored partner was a Scotsman who was known as 'Demo’. While he was loud and often times drunk, he had a very… explosive way of dealing with stubborn monsters. He had nearly everything on his tracklist - vampires, demons, wizards, succubi - if you could name a type of monster, Demo surely faced off against it.

Then there were the others - a young hunter who'd barely started, deemed 'Scout’. Sniper wasn't too fond of the kid, simply because he was so overconfident. It'd get him hurt.

There was the Spy, a man who never showed his face and used stealth to track monsters. He had a tendency to go for demons, succubi, and the like, so Sniper had never personally worked with him.

The Engineer was another hunter Sniper got along with. He used traps most of the time, capturing elusive, barely-known monsters to bring them to light. He'd discovered so many types of smaller pests that Sniper was certain they'd name something after him.

Soldier was the loudest of the bunch. True to his name, he was the epitome of a soldier - though Sniper wasn't fully convinced the guy had ever been formally enlisted, no matter the stories he told. The man was one of the more dangerous hunters, generally tracking werebeasts.

Lastly, there was Pyro. Nobody knew what Pyro looked like or where they were from. But their skills were impressive - if there was a monster that had to be burned to be truly killed, Pyro was your best bet. Generally, Pyro tagged along after the Engineer, so if you wanted one, you got the other.

Currently, Sniper was seated at a bar between Demo and Spy, the rest of the group around them. Spy was regaling some tale of a recent demon he'd killed, holding a tooth up for proof.

“Thought you didn't like taking trophies,” Sniper said, leaning onto the bar. The Spy laughed.

“Normally? No. But this, I found stuck in my suit. I cleaned it quite thoroughly and decided to keep it.”

Of course he'd have to clean it, Sniper thought. The rest of the men didn't bother cleaning their trophies much - Soldier least of all. There had been many a time where Soldier had stumbled in with a new foot or ear he'd severed from something. Sniper still remembered that time he brought proof of killing a were-rat. He was at least half certain that it wasn't a tail Soldier had found.

Trophies and bragging aside, the nights Sniper spent with the group were decent.

After the group had calmed from their initial excitement at being together again, Sniper began telling them of the large vampire he'd been encountering. Each member sat, attention undivided as Sniper explained that this monster was much stronger than him.

“But I managed to scar him, so that's gotta count for something, yeah?” He said, and a few nodded.

“Said you got him with holy water?” Engineer asked. “If he was holding you, why didn't you just stab him?”

“Don't think I could reach his chest from how he had me.” Sniper looked down.  

“What, is he that big?” Scout piped up, appearing from next to Demo. Kid was so small, Sniper often had trouble finding him.

“Big enough to hold me up off the ground. Thought for a few seconds he might just eat me on the spot.” Sniper scowled. The Engineer let out a long whistle.

“Well, next time you think you might be running into this thing… You give us a call, alright?” He grinned, taking his beer from the bar counter. “I’m sure we could come up with a way to wrangle this beast.”

The Sniper nodded at Engineer, and contemplated possibly calling backup next time Medic sent him on a mission. He’d have to ask the doctor before doing so - he didn’t know if he would be comfortable sharing his project with anyone but the original man he hired.

The group continued chatting far into the night, and at the end of it all, Sniper found himself drunk on far too much liquor handed over by Demo, stumbling onto the bed in his camper. He’d talk to Medic tomorrow - after his hangover subsided.


	4. Chapter 4

Sniper was right about the hangover. He nursed a glass of water and swallowed a couple of painkillers, groaning inwardly. He always drank more than he should when around Demo, and it was always the harder stuff - that Scotsman didn’t like the cheap stuff.

He waited until the pounding in his head receded and he could open the blinds on his camper windows without wincing to call Medic. When the doctor answered his call, they made plans to meet up once again, once he got done with his work. Which, Medic had said, probably wouldn’t be until rather late. Sniper suggested going out around lunch time, but that got a stiff ‘no’ in response. He really was a workaholic, then.

So another late night it would be. Sniper didn’t mind - the time alone would give him some time to think about what he wanted to do from his current point.  He needed to see when the others from the group were free. He chose Demoman regularly as his teammate, but given the situation, he was leaning toward asking Spy. Someone to watch his back during the low moments, to make sure that giant vampire wasn’t coming for him.

Even if Spy hunted different beasts than he did, he was sure they could work something out. For now, however, until he found the spook, Sniper figured he should get something done for the day. So he hurried out of his camper and found the nearest payphone, dropping coins in to give a call to his parents.

His father didn’t appreciate the hunting business, and his mother constantly fretted over his safety, but Sniper took it all in stride and always told his parents he’d be safe. Every call was ended with a ‘love you, I’ll be home before christmas’. Which, he did plan on visiting Australia again for the holidays. Given the fact that it was only September, though, he didn’t have much worry. Aside from, of course, the monstrous sized vampire out to eat him.

The phone call that day was ended with something a little softer. A promise, not just a statement, to come home, and love to both his parents. Sniper was a sap at heart, and the danger he was in now made it all the more apparent. He never asked his mother to put his dad on the phone to tell him he loved him, but this time he did, and it made his parents suspicious.

“Everything alright over there, son?” His father’s tone was always stiff, but Sniper knew how to read the subtleties in his words. 

“Yeah, just… Taking on a bigger job, is all.” He admitted, leaning against the phone booth. He waited for the inevitable sigh, letting him know his father was rolling his eyes.

“You better be careful.”

“I will, dad, promise. I’m getting backup.” A lie, since he didn’t know if Medic would agree to his idea. 

“Yeah, well, call us so we know you’re not dead.”

Now Sniper rolled his eyes. “I will, don’t worry.”

When they hung up, Sniper was just a little shaky. He never really thought about what would happen if he were to die in the States. What would his parents think? Would they take him back to Australia? Or would everything be kept hush-hush and his parents left to wonder why their son wasn’t calling? He hated the latter idea - His parents were against the whole hunting thing but he knew that they loved him, and the idea of them not knowing what happened to him if he died… 

Sniper shook his head, grumbling. Off that train of thought, he scolded himself. Off.

Focus on other things. Like what he was even going to say to Medic when they met up. Or if he could get the doctor to come out earlier. He’d rather like to see the Medic outside during the day. As nice as he looked under the light of the bar they were in the other night, Sniper figured he’d look even prettier under the sunlight, and--

What was he thinking? He was a professional, not some ten year old with a schoolboy crush. Sure, he could admit that the doctor was attractive. Older than him, surely, but still a handsome bloke nonetheless. 

Lost in his moment of thought, the Sniper didn’t hear company behind him - he wouldn’t have, anyway, not with the feather-light footsteps of the Spy.  The Frenchman laid his hand on Sniper’s shoulder, causing him to whirl around with a snarl on his lips. He relaxed slightly when he realized who was with him.

“Jeeze, Spook, gonna scare me right outta my pants,” Sniper said, lips curled into a grin. He laughed when he saw Spy’s face contort into an expression of disgust.

“I’d rather you kept them on, bushman.” Spy let go of Sniper’s shoulder, brushing his hand glove off with the opposite hand. Sniper found the action to be both funny and rather irritating - he wasn’t that filthy. 

He could still take the opportunity to ask Spy about a possible team up, now. Watching the frenchman for a few moments, Sniper contemplated how to bring it up. Spy, however, spoke faster than Sniper could even begin to bring up conversation.

“Calling another client?” Spy asked, pulling a cigarette from his coat. He lit it behind his glove and puffed softly, watching as Sniper shook his head.

“Nah, calling my parents. They like to know what’s going on over here.”

“A mama’s boy, then? I should have guessed.” 

Sniper rolled his eyes. “Nothing wrong with a guy wanting his parents to know he’s safe.”

Spy got a certain look on his face for a moment at those words, glancing away. His eyes were focused on  something far away, but Sniper didn’t bother to follow his gaze. 

“Hey, Spook, got a question for you.” Sniper broke the awkward silence that followed, waving his hand in front of Spy’s face. The Spy scowled, pulling his cigarette from his mouth to tap the ashes way.

“And that would be?”

“If my client agrees to it, think you could help me on this job? Need a lookout while I’m hunting.” Sniper rubbed the back of his neck nervously - Spy was a tricky person to negotiate. But maybe this time he’d have some luck.

“I don’t hunt vampires, bushman.”

“I know. But I just need a lookout. Someone quiet - you get why I’m asking you?”

“I thought it was just convenience. Thought I was the only one to run into you today.” Spy took another long breath of smoke, seeming to think the idea over. An easy enough job for him. Of course…

“Will you pay me?”

“Yeah, Doc’s paying me more than enough as it is.” 

“Doc?” 

“Yeah, guy that hired me. He’s a doctor, working on some cure for vampirism. I didn’t know it could be cured. Or, well, that it wasn’t just some weird thing that happened to corpses.”

“Vampirism is seen as a disease in some places, bushman. Some people can live normal lives while being afflicted by it.” Spy’s voice spoke of knowledge of the subject - perhaps he’d known someone who’d been… Infected. Sniper didn’t bother to ask about that, though. He simply moved on.

“Yeah, anyway. If he gives the ok, could I drop you a call? Tell you about the next hit?”

Spy sighed heavily. “I don’t see why not.”

“Thanks, Spook!” Sniper grinned. Spy rolled his eyes even harder than before, if that was possible.

 

* * *

 

 

Medic called Sniper that night around seven. The sun was just starting to go down, and Sniper was in his camper when the phone went off. He was glad he had the tech from Australia in his camper for clients to contact him. It was strictly for that purpose, too - calling his parents on the phone in his vehicle would land him ridiculous long-distance fees. Not that he couldn’t pay that with the way Medic was paying him for this job, but… Habit.

He answered the call with a bit more pep in his voice than the prior calls they’d had - he accounted it toward being in a less stressed mood since being with the rest of the hunters, but the real reason… Sniper wouldn’t admit. 

They discussed meeting somewhere a little more secluded to talk about the jobs. Medic didn’t want people overhearing some of the things he wanted to discuss, and Sniper agreed.

“And hey, doc,” Sniper said, before the call ended.

“ _ Ja _ ?”

“You’re an actual doctor, yeah? Think you could help patch me up a bit?”

“Depends - are you bleeding?”

“Nah,” He didn’t understand why that was a concern. “Just bruised up. Wanna know if there’s anything you could put on it.”

“I’ll bring something. I’ll see you soon,  _ Herr _ Sniper.”

 

* * *

 

 

The meeting was in a small park on the north side of town. It was between the downtown area and a residential area, so it didn’t get much activity at night. There were small wooded areas with benches and lamps behind the open field, and that was where Sniper waited. Hands in his pockets, he paced for several minutes before sitting down, letting out a puff of air. He closed his eyes and simply sat, listening for Medic.

He didn’t hear him approach, and so he was startled by the presence dropping down next to him. Two surprises in one day!

Medic shuffled in a bag he had in his lap almost immediately, and Sniper leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees as he watched. The doctor pulled out a small jar of something - what it was Sniper couldn’t tell - and another envelope. Sniper seemed confused for just a moment, then grabbed the bag he had with him - just a simple plastic grocery bag, he wasn’t too fussy - and set the contents between them.

“Got you three whole samples here, doc.” He said, grinning. The look Medic gave him was tired, but thankful.

“ _ Danke, Herr  _ Sniper. And here is your new job,” He handed the envelope over and Sniper didn’t even bother to peek inside. Instead he just tucked it away.

“Thanks. Before we get all into the details of this, though, I gotta ask. Can I bring backup for this? Say, someone to watch my back while I’m out there?”

Medic seemed conflicted at that. There was a tense silence for moments that felt like hours before he finally gave in and spoke once more.

“If you do not tell them anything of this, and they’re just there to watch your back, I don’t see why not.”

“Why do you want to keep this all qui-- Ah?” Sniper’s words stopped dead as he felt Medic take his hand, and for a moment he got excited, his cheeks flushing, thinking that maybe the doctor had the same thoughts he did.

Feeling something like a salve on his wrist left Sniper both disappointed and relieved. Medic was putting something that felt rather cold against the bruises on his wrist, and Sniper couldn’t tear his eyes away from where Medic’s hands were gently touching his. Alright, so he did manage to move his gaze. But only so far as the doctor’s face, watching his brows knit with concentration. He wondered, not for the first time, what Medic looked like under that scarf of his.

“That should help,” Medic said, pulling his hands away. Sniper’s wrist felt cold and it tingled. He wasn’t sure if the latter was from the salve or Medic’s skin on his. Perhaps both.

“Thanks,” He said. He was tempted to pull that scarf off of him. He resisted.

“It’s nothing,  _ mein Freund _ .” Medic smiled at him, apparent by the way his eyes moved and the lift of his cheeks. Sniper cleared his throat softly. After several long, nerve-wracking moments, the Sniper brought conversation back between the two of them, asking Medic simple questions. He learned that the Medic kept birds and liked to play chess on his off days and he learned where the doctor was staying. Medic offered his home - his office, really - as a shelter for the Australian, should the need ever arise. 

For the second time, the two spent hours simply talking. Eventually, the night air brought a desert chill and Sniper offered to get Medic a coffee, to get out of the slight cold. He expected a refusal, but instead was graced with a simple, positive answer.

"I'd enjoy that." 

Sniper nearly forgot his papers.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sniper's got a cruuuush.
> 
>  
> 
> Thank you guys for the kudos and the comments. <3 It really makes my day.


	5. Chapter 5

The town of Teufort was run by one family for generations upon generations.

At least, that was what the public was told - behind the scenes, behind the pattern of Mayor Mann after Mayor Mann were secrets. Few people were privy to such information. Few people knew how the town really ran.

Miss Pauling, of course, was one of the people who knew the town inside and out. Every person, every tourist, every living thing that set foot near or in Teufort was logged by Miss Pauling. She knew what people were and what they did at all times - she knew Sniper was taking jobs from someone. She was fully aware of who was giving the jobs, too. It was all information that she had to relay back to her bosses.

Her bosses were the interchanging Mayors Mann, brothers who ran the city for hundreds of years. Just under them was Helen - nobody seemed to notice that the secretaries to the Mayor always looked the same. Either that or they didn’t care. Helen didn’t make many appearances outside of her office, anyway. She had more important things to worry about.

Miss Pauling took care of the secretarial duties this time around. She’d probably take care of them for years to come.

Speaking of her duties, she had some things to write down about some vampire activity in the town. Things were getting messy real quick, and she was certain the Mayors weren’t going to be pleased.

 

* * *

 

 

Sniper was giddy after his outing with Medic. It felt nice to be able to open up to someone. And not just to his acquaintances in Teufort, not to Miss Pauling or to anyone who called him for help. To someone who actually seemed interested in knowing about him, about his life. Medic seemed genuine and that in itself made Sniper more excited than he could remember being in so long. He was a loner, sure, but part of him wanted someone he could go to when he was feeling… 

Lonely.

At the very least, Medic had offered his place as a safehouse. He wouldn't take advantage of that - he'd go if he got hurt or if it was important, but he'd continue meeting with the doctor in the same manner they had been. He didn’t want to impose on the guy.

Medic was someone he could dare to call a friend. Someone he found genuinely attractive - but he wouldn't push for anything more than friendship. Even if Medic's smile was a nice sight, from what he could see above that scarf of his.

That night, he went into his camper and turned the radio on, grinning widely as he put the papers on his counter and made his way to his bunk. Sleep didn’t come for quite some time - he laid awake on his back, humming softly alongside his radio.

When sleep did finally claim him, it was to the slow, soft sound of Sinatra’s voice and “Call Me Irresponsible”.

Sniper slept soundly that night.

 

* * *

  
  


By the end of the week, Sniper was prepared for another mission. He’d resisted the urge to call Medic and had instead called Spy, giving the man the basic information that he was allowed to give to him about where they were going. It was a bigger city this time, somewhere with many places to hide, but also many places where a vampire as large as the one Sniper was afraid of would never be able to hang around without raising suspicion.

Spy still came along, though - Sniper didn’t want to underestimate his new rival. Enemy. Sniper still didn't even know what to call the guy. He needed some sort of name for him. Referring to him as some monster or beast was fine, but it could get to be a mouthful.

He'd think about it if he saw the guy again. Maybe he'd spit out some witty one liner and get a good name from that.

For now he focused on driving - Spy sat in the passenger seat beside him, making faces as he complained about the state of Sniper's van. Sniper took it in stride. He knew his van wasn't the cleanest, but he lived in it, so what was to be expected?

“At the very least, you could wipe something down, bushman.” Spy said, inspecting his gloved hands. Sniper glanced over with a slight grin, about to make a snarky comment when he realized something.

“Spook, why don't you ever take those gloves off?”

Spy looked at him for a long moment, a slightly stunned look on his face, before answering.

“Allergies. Sensitive skin. I can't touch some things.”

“And wearing sweaty gloves all day is the better option?”

“They are not sweaty, and yes.”

Sniper dropped the topic after Spy gave him another irritated look, turning on the radio instead.

 

 

The town that Sniper needed to get to was, thankfully, not too far away. The less he had to hear of Spy’s complaints and snarky comments, the better. Don’t get him wrong, he liked the guy well enough - he was clever, and from Sniper had heard, strong enough to fight off a bloodthirsty demon. He was good at his job. He just wasn’t good company for a road trip.

An hour and a half of driving and they made it to a rather populated city, buildings taller than the ones in Teufort seeming like giants over Sniper’s camper. He parked near the college campus they were headed into - the older building on the lot was apparently rife with vandals and, recently, some rumors of vampires.

Sniper was aware that the older building was still used sometimes by the students on campus - art students looking for inspiration and, recently, students training in renovation or demolition. Apparently the college was going to slowly rework the entire place and make it habitable once more, but for the moment it was only open to certain people.

Apparently Sniper counted for that - Medic must have called ahead, because he was given the okay almost immediately to head into the building to scope the area. He noted that most activity looked like it was on the eastern side of the building, where there were signs of people recently. Things were moved around and there were more than obvious footprints and newer looking paint and writing on the walls.

Sniper decided he’d set up in one of the hallways, with Spy hidden in a more shaded area, listening for movement in the different classrooms and halls.

Once he figured out a plan, he went back to his camper. Spy told him he’d be back at dusk, and he was going out to the city.

  
  


* * *

 

 

Upon nightfall, Sniper and Spy were situated in their places, waiting for any signs of movement. They had to be careful this time, since it wasn’t just vampire activity in the area, but delinquent teenagers and what looked to be gang members, judging by some of the writing on the walls.

The night was almost too quiet for several hours, and Sniper found himself getting bored with the wait. There should have been something by now, he thought, and began moving from his chosen area. Stepping carefully into classrooms, he peeked around for anything, anyone - Spy was doing the same, he was sure.

Dust was getting all over his hat and vest, and he had to keep wiping the lenses of his shades off whenever he stepped through a doorway. Maybe he should have taken a note from Pyro and started wearing masks on jobs--

Sniper’s train of thought was interrupted when he heard Spy’s voice down the hall, yelling for him.

Almost tripping over himself, Sniper cocked his rifle and ran, following the source of Spy’s voice. He skidded into a classroom with his gun ready, met with the sight of Spy, revolver out and held in front of him. Across the room, several vampires - Sniper could tell,  most of their faces were gaunt and mouths dropped open, revealing sharp teeth - were ready to move forward. He couldn’t take them all out and he was sure Spy’s gun wasn’t fast enough either.

Heads turned to look at him as he moved, though, and he hoped that was distraction enough for Spy to move. But the poor Frenchman was frozen in place, his chest moving in uneven breaths as he looked behind Sniper.

Now, Sniper should have expected an ambush. He should have prepared for the worst, he knew - but he didn't. He didn’t think that a group of vampires could be strong enough to take out two experienced hunters. But when one was the size of a house, that wasn’t so hard to believe.

Sniper felt a hand on the top of his head, crushing his hat against his scalp. The hand was oddly warm - were vampires supposed to be warm?

Limbs shaking, Sniper closed his eyes and waited for the worst. The guy could easily twist his neck and kill him, or lift him and eat him on the spot. He was too petrified to run, too scared to look back at the beast behind him.

Silence fell over the room, the only sounds the breathing of the different beings - Sniper’s scared pants, Spy’s heavy wheezing, and the group of vampires seething.

When the sound of a gun went off, Sniper jumped. The vampire behind him lost his grip, yelling something to the others. Sniper took the moment and leapt forward, grabbing Spy by the arm. Their only options were to fight or run, and running seemed the best option - even if the only way out was the window.

The gun, of course, had been Spy’s revolver - in a moment of courage he’d shot at the arm of the vampire holding Sniper, and shocked everyone into a state of movement. The vampire group across from them leapt as well, fangs and claws ready to draw blood. Sniper shoved Spy and yelled at him to head to the window, using his rifle to inflict some damage on the vampires.

The boss - that was what Sniper thought of him as, now, seeing him with all his underlings - stood in the doorway with a deep scowl, contemplating his next move. Sniper had no idea what he was planning, and he didn’t want to stick around long enough to find out. He jammed the barrel of his rifle against a vampire’s leg and pulled the trigger, the gun at an awkward angle in his hand. The recoil made his shoulder and wrist hurt and he regretted it almost immediately.

Spy was shooting his revolver blindly behind himself, trying for anything. He just wanted out.

Sniper felt something sharp on his arm and he swung, the side of his gun connecting with flesh. Blood dripped down his arm and he panicked, hearing the hungry growling of the vampires, now heightened by the scent of fresh blood. A hungry vampire was more dangerous than any other vampire, he knew, and pulled his arm away as he and Spy made their way to the window. They were doing their best to keep the vampires at bay, but Sniper kept feeling claws through the fabric of his clothes, and felt what he hoped to whatever god was out there weren’t teeth on his skin.

Adjusting his hold on his rifle, he slammed the butt of it against a vampire’s forehead and then turned himself, cracking the window in front of them with it. They would have to climb through, but it was better than being in a room with the beasts - Spy swung himself over the sill and dropped, and Sniper hoped that their landings wouldn’t be on concrete as he followed suit.

They were. He wasn’t used to jumping from two stories, and he panicked - he tried to roll but he was unprepared, landing on his feet and feeling the shock of it throughout his body. He yelled, seething in pain as Spy did the same.

Above them, the beast of a vampire chuckled to himself. He sure hoped his boys got a good bite out of the Sniper - he watched one lick their finger clean, the idea of the hunter becoming his prey the greatest revenge to him.

 

* * *

  
  
  


Medic was working - he had samples of the blood under testing and he had to keep an eye on things, so when his phone rang, it wasn’t of utmost importance to him to answer. But the damn thing kept ringing and he couldn’t concentrate with the noise. 

He picked up the receiver and snapped an irritated hello into it.

The sound of Sniper’s labored breathing was on the other end, and he was obviously in pain when he spoke.

“Doc? Doc, I think one of them bit me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oooooooh. :')
> 
> By the way, you guys can message me on my Tumblr if you'd like to!  
> cestenial.tumblr.com


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not really the best chapter I've written but...  
> Definitely some important stuff in here.
> 
> It's shorter than what I wanted but I hope this is alright. ;w;
> 
> Also changed the rating to E since I plan on eventually writing some smut (but that's pretty far ahead whoops I just wanted this to have a rating)

“What do you mean you think one bit you? How can you not know?” Medic held the phone with his shoulder, dropping his work to pack a bag of supplies - various drugs, syringes, pills, and assorted pieces from first aid kits. 

“There was a lot going on, doc. I'm bleeding, and Spy is too--” Sniper sounded distraught. Medic didn't like it. 

“Spy?” Medic sounded suspicious. Who would take the name  _ Spy _ ?

“Guy I brought with me. But doc, we're both bleeding and neither of us really know what to do--”

“Just stay where you are. And let the wounds bleed as much as you can without losing too much blood - I won't know until I look whether they're infected.”

“Yeah-- can do, doc. You need our location?”

“If you're far from the place I sent you, yes.”

Sniper told Medic where they had the camper parked, glancing over at Spy. The Frenchman looked impatient. 

  
  


“A vampire hunter who doesn't know how to take care of a bite… Ach.” Medic said upon entering the camper. He dropped his bag onto the table with a huff, digging through it. He pulled a pair of red gloves out and snapped them on, staring at Sniper. “You've been doing this your whole life and…”

“Didn't ever think I'd get bit.” Sniper was sitting on the camper's couch, while Spy leaned against the counter, looking haggard. 

“Didn't ever think you'd get bitten! Shouldn't a hunter always take such things into account?” Medic didn't look pleased at all as he made his way over to Sniper, gloved hands waving. For a moment, the Australian understood why people were so afraid of doctors. 

“Yeah… Should’ve. But…”

“ _ Nein _ . No excuses.” He lowered his gaze. “Show me the bites. You, too.” He gestured toward Spy, who rolled his eyes and came forward, rolling up his dirtied shirt sleeves. The Frenchman didn't seem pleased at all about the situation, mumbling something around the cigarette in his mouth.

Sniper grumbled and complained as he pulled his shirt up, pointing at various scratches and nicks. Most were trivial - the scratches on his torso had bled an awful amount, though, and Sniper winced whenever Medic dug his fingers into his skin. 

Bastard’s probably doing it on purpose, he thought. 

Medic seemed calmed by the fact that the scratches on Sniper's torso were fine aside from the fact that they might scar - he put some foul smelling ointment on them that made Sniper yelp. 

When he got to the Australian's arms, he seemed far more concerned. 

“Now these look like actual bites,” He said, twisting Sniper's left arm this way and that, ignoring his sounds of pain. “It doesn't look like the fangs dug in too far, but they tore the flesh - did you pull away?”

Sniper made a face. “Probably? We were running away.”

Medic made a 'tsk’ sound, shaking his head. 

“Tearing can make it easier for them to find a good place to really sink in and infect you. Thankfully, it looks like whoever made this was just hungry, not out to turn you.”

“So I'm not going to turn?” Sniper’s voice was hopeful.

“Probably not.” Medic grinned as Sniper's face paled. “Make this mistake again and you just might. Now, you.”

Medic grabbed Spy's arm without warning, causing the Frenchman to make a shocked sound, almost dropping his cigarette. 

“ _ Mon Dieu  _ \- warn a man, won't you?” Spy’s tone was that of a child who’d been caught with his hand stuck in the cookie jar.

“Warning the patient is less fun. Let's see…” Medic looked closely at Spy's arm, touching the bites far gentler than he had with Sniper. He made a face for a moment, seeming concerned, and looked up at Spy's face. Their eyes locked, and Medic seemed to understand Spy's expression. He let go of his arm. 

“You're fine.”

“You barely touched him--” Sniper said.

“ _ Ja _ , and I can tell he's fine. Who's the doctor here?” Medic fixed his gaze on Sniper, brows knitted together. Sniper gave a short huff as he crossed his arms, not very pleased with the situation. 

Medic took the moment to pull Spy aside, outside the camper. Curious, Sniper sat up and leaned toward the door. He only heard short words, kept quiet even with the door closed. 

  
  


“How long….” That was Spy's voice.

“A few hundred….”

“....As well. Does Sniper…”

Upon hearing his name, Sniper needed to know. He crept over to the camper door, leaning closer to it to listen. 

“So you haven't told him?” Spy sounded surprised. 

“No. Why haven't you?” Medic, however, sounded upset. 

“You think he would take me seriously, knowing this? I get enough about this from the others. Soldier especially.” Spy scoffed.

“I'm sorry. I don't know many of you around here. He is…?”

“The werebeast hunter.”

“Ah. And is he aware that…” Medic's voice lowered - did he know Sniper was listening?

“His best friend is a werewolf? Yes. They've told tales of hunting together.”

“A werewolf hunting other werebeasts? That seems strange. Aren't they more of a pack beast?”

“Hah! Aren't vampires as well, _docteur_? Why are _you_ hunting other vampires?” 

Sniper leaned away from the door, eyes wide. He could still hear muffled speech, but he didn't pay much attention to it. His  mind was focused on the fact that Spy had just called Medic a vampire. 

  
  
  


Sniper didn't mention what he heard to Medic or Spy. When they left, he sat back in his camper and just thought for quite some time. 

So this handsome doctor he'd been running jobs for was a vampire - but he'd said he was working on a cure, so maybe that meant he was trying to cure himself? But the doubts lingered in Sniper's mind. What if he was just trying to find ways to turn more people? What if he planned on using Sniper as a food source? 

And what was Spy? Not a vampire, right? He went out during the day and he didn't hide underneath a scarf like Medic did. He wasn't sure that he liked the idea of Spy not being human - and hadn't they mentioned Demoman, too?

Was anyone in Teufort human?

Sniper’s head was reeling from the idea of being part of a minority of humans in a single town and he sat down, dropping his head into his hands. The cuts and bites on his arms and torso still hurt, and Medic had left him some of that ointment to use if he started bleeding again… But should he trust that? Should he trust something given to him by a vampire?

When his arm started dripping after he changed his shirt, he said screw it and opened the jar.

  
  


Miss Pauling took her job very seriously. With Sniper off working for someone else, she had to find someone to do her assignments instead. That duty fell, begrudgingly, to Scout - Miss Pauling didn't like dealing with him on a regular basis, but he was getting the job done just fine. He was taking out vampires, which was good - an increase in friendly vampire activity meant they needed to weed out the ones with intent to kill. That German one that arrived recently seemed to be working hard at something that could help, but Pauling was going to wait until she was sure of his intent before approaching him.

Sniper, though…

Pauling dialed his number into the phone in her - Helen's - office, waiting for him to pick up. When she heard his voice on the other end, a bit shaky, she had to keep herself from laughing. Poor guy was a human in a sea of monsters.

“Heard you had a bit of an adventure today, Sniper.”

  
  


He wasn't alone in this new town. That reassured Medic. There were others that were nonhuman. Spy's existence helped confirm that - it wasn't every day he came across a being with blood that looked silver. He wasn't sure how Spy hid that from Sniper… magic and trickery, he guessed. Alteration spells were simple enough, and for someone of Spy's species… even simpler. 

But meeting just one wasn't enough. Medic was curious about the rest of the people he'd heard about. He knew about Soldier and Demoman thanks to his conversation with Spy. While he was wary of werebeasts - he’d heard far too many tales of them being ravenous when they shifted - he was curious to see what it was that set Soldier apart from others. Magic, Spy had insinuated, but hadn’t elaborated.

From what Spy had told him, it sounded like Teufort had an entire community of monsters and shifters unknown to humans. He’d been invited to come along and get to know the others, including some of the people working with the city itself! Just what kind of monsters worked for the city to keep things under wraps, he wondered.

Looking at the number Spy had given him, Medic tucked it beside his phone and went to get ready for bed. He normally didn’t take naps when it was nearing dawn, but being out in near-sunlight, even just for a little while, made him entirely exhausted. His skin was also feeling just a little itchy. With a grumble, he crept into his lab and opened the small fridge in there - jars and bags of blood sat, unopened, along with spare samples from vampires he’d had run-ins with.

A dead vampire wasn’t going to miss a hand, so he didn’t feel guilty about taking such things.

Shoving the hands and other body parts away, Medic took a small jar of blood and hurried off, content to sustain himself on just enough to keep himself going. Blood was easy enough to come by, but he had trained himself not to go into a bloodcraze and he was going to stay that way.

That was the downfall of most vampires, he’d realized. Far too long ago, across the ocean, he’d lost someone so precious to him. Memories of his loss kept the doctor going, kept him working on a cure. Milo’s death wouldn’t be in vain, he told himself that nearly every day. Milo would want him to keep going, to keep working.

And so he did. Sipping at what little blood he was allowing himself, Medic’s thoughts wandered and his fingers trailed against the spines of old diaries and journals on his shelves. The leather across them was kept in the best condition he could manage, some of the cracked edges beginning to peel and flake. Most of the books were records of his work, what seemed to work and what didn’t. 

One day he’d get it. One day he’d be able to walk out into the sun without a care, and maybe start new as a doctor in the states. He regretted his actions in Germany, but it wasn’t like he could just erase them. He thought about changing his name completely and heading back home, just to see what it was like after a few hundred years, but he never let himself give in to the temptation. 

Finishing off what he had in the jar, Medic made sure his journals were all in order before turning away toward his bedroom, conveniently located in the room with the smallest window. Curtains drawn, he laid down to rest for a while. He'd talk to Sniper again soon and get him another job.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I did not mean for this chapter to be this long.
> 
> I also did not mean for it to end the way it does. Whoops.
> 
> This chapter is the reason this fic is rated E.

Sniper’s conversation with Miss Pauling that night went a little oddly. She seemed to know that he’d dealt with some monsters in a non-violent sense, and hinted at it several times. It made Sniper a little uncomfortable to think that Pauling knew everything that went on… The way she spoke about his interaction with Spy made it sound like she had eyes on them the entire time.

She didn't mention Medic, though, so that was a little more reassuring. Sniper had the suspicion that she was simply keeping that out of the conversation to not raise any questions.

Thinking back on what he heard the day before, Sniper thought that it seemed a little like a daydream. Maybe it was his imagination running haywire, maybe the blood loss from his fight.

But he didn't bleed _that_ much, so that idea flew out the window.

He really hoped that it wasn't true - the first person he'd actually started to like in ages turning out to be a vampire… But it seemed all too true, so he had to get used to the idea of it. What Sniper really wanted to know was why Medic was hunting other vampires. He had said that he was working on a way to cure them, which was believable.

No matter what Medic was doing with the samples Sniper got for him, he supposed he’d keep going until he got hint of Medic doing something terrible. Not a great mindset, but he paid well. Where he got the money to be paying that much, Sniper didn’t know - and he was a bit too scared to ask.

Getting ready for his day, Sniper felt the need to call Medic at least once during the day - night, rather - if he wasn’t contacted. Maybe he’d get him to come out again and just talk. Test the waters, see if the doctor would tell him what he was. He wouldn’t outright state it. Walk up to the man and yell, “Hey, mate, you a vampire or what?”

Bad idea. He supposed he’d just get to know Medic a little better for now. He brushed his hair back with a soft huff and put his shades on, heading out to do some shopping. He needed more bullets if he was going to be taking more jobs on soon.

 

 

A man of forty stood in the doorway of a bedroom, wringing his hands. His brother had been in bed for days now and hadn’t budged. All offers of food or drink were pushed away and the poor man was nearly skin and bone.

“Brother,” He said, creeping in slowly. “Milo, please, we’re all worried about you. Won’t you get up and eat?”

In response, his brother moved beneath the blankets, turning toward him. Bloodshot eyes peeked from under the quilt and a growl was heard. Moments later, a flurry of blankets and bedsheets flew as the elder brother - Milo - lunged from the bed, tackling the younger to the floor.

Blood pooled under the younger brother’s body as he shoved his elder away, yelling. Footsteps clambered up the stairs and someone else arrived - he recognized the person as one of his younger sisters. Upon seeing the blood and the scuffle, the elder brother was knocked unconscious by the nearest blunt object, leaving the younger gasping and wheezing. He was losing blood fast, and before he blacked out he heard his sister, his saviour, speak.

“ _Ein Blutsauger._ ”

 

Medic awoke with shaky limbs, his hands immediately covering his face. He never cried, he never let himself do so - unless he dreamt of Milo. Huge sobs wracked his body as he cried, rocking forward to curl into himself. They had to kill his brother - his smart, wonderful brother who was the whole reason Medic was a doctor in the first place… Because he let himself get infected with vampirism. If he had just known, if Milo had told someone, he could have been saved, Medic was sure. But no, Milo was too kind and didn’t want anyone to worry.

Medic sobbed again, digging the heels of his palms into his eyes to try to stop the tears. He knew they wouldn’t stop, but every time he thought of Milo he did this. It was nearly routine, now.

He had to calm himself. Deep breaths, he thought. In, then out, over and over. Every time he thought he was fine, he began sobbing once more. Though the incident had been four centuries in the past, the memory never faded. A vampire didn't often forget the moment they were turned.

Why did it have to be his brother?

Another several minutes of sobbing passed before Medic forced himself up, standing and wiping his face. He ran his hands over his face several times, taking long, shuddering breaths. With shaky hands, he took his glasses from the table and put them on. Several times, he had to take them back off to wipe them down, the tears on his lashes smearing across the lenses.

He got a glass of water when he made it to the kitchen and forced actual food into his stomach - he had to keep a balance between blood and solid food to keep himself healthy - and tried to wake himself up for the… well, night.

Medic looked outside, then at his clock. He'd slept for a while, and he felt better aside from the sobbing fit he had. Now that it was sufficiently dark out, he decided that a walk would be the best option for him and bundled up in his jacket and scarf. He didn't feel the heat all too much, which was a blessing. Still, he couldn't wait for the day he could go out without a scarf around his face.

 

 

The night air was a little cooler tonight, Sniper thought. It felt nice to go out and not have to feel the heat make his sweat stick to his skin. He'd dressed casually this time around, jeans and a plain shirt, forgoing his hat. The shades stayed though. He never left without his glasses.

He'd done his shopping earlier, picked up more ammo and gun cleaner, along with some small groceries he could store in his camper's fridge. Sniper was set for a while if things kept going the way they were.

So he walked without a destination, taking in the night scenery. He liked watching the birds outside this time of night. It was mostly owls. He had an owl that liked to nest in his camper, peeking its head out when he took the time to clean the roof off.

Sniper slowed near the park, watching for any sign of birds or bats from the trees. He slowed enough that he just came to a stop near the entrance of the park, taking long breaths. Pulling a cigarette from his pocket, he lit it and leaned against the fenced entryway, exhaling streams of smoke, watching it curl upward.

Life was strange right now.

 

Medic's walk took him to the bar he'd met Sniper at some time ago, just for a place to watch people - and perhaps see if he could pick out nonhumans in the groups.

That didn't take long. Within moments of entering the bar after passing a large man who smelled of alcohol and wet dog, he saw Spy with a few other people. A shorter, bald man in workman's clothes and a bulkier man with a helmet so low he couldn't see his face. Then there was a teenaged boy, sitting with his feet up. He was probably getting dirt all over the counter, but the other patrons - what few there were - and the bartender didn’t seem to care.

Medic could have left, but he was stopped when Spy motioned at him to come closer.

“This,” Spy said, waving his hand at Medic, “Is our new resident vampire. Medic, this is Engineer, Soldier, and…. Scout. I was just talking about you.”

Medic gave a concerned look to Spy - was it safe to be talking about this here?

He didn't get a chance to ask, since Soldier - that military getup was convincing - raised his voice.

“This fairy says you're hunting bad vampires! And I say good job to that, son!” Medic leaned away from Soldier's yelling, avoiding the spittle from his mouth.

“Ah-- Ja, I'm working on a cure--”

“A cure? You should just kill ‘em all!”

Engineer piped up. “Now, Jane, Spy here said this guy's a vampire too.”

“Oh.” Soldier's expression fell for just a moment before he grinned once more. “Kill them all _except_ yourself!”

Medic raised a brow, looking to Spy for help. The Frenchman simply shook his head, sighing.

“Come, docteur. We have quite a lot to talk about.”

 

 

Sniper ended up running into Miss Pauling on his walk, which shouldn't have surprised him. He suspected that she found him on purpose because she began talking immediately, asking about what he was doing, what jobs he was taking.

He tried to answer in as few words as possible, keeping Medic's name and identity out of it. But Pauling looked like she knew, giving Sniper a look every now and again.

He wished she'd just admit that she knew things. It would be less stress on his shoulders, at the very least.

She filled the quiet night with chatter of her work, and Sniper listened. There weren't many times like this where they actually had the time to make smalltalk, but it usually went in the same way each time.

Pauling would talk about work and joke around with Sniper about the various monsters around Teufort, and then she'd usually give him a job. This time around she didn't seem intent on giving him any sort of job, knowing fully well that he was working for someone else.

She did, however, seem intent on taking him somewhere. Sniper realised the streets they were talking were leading to the bar he usually met the other hunters at. He wasn't sure how many of them she actually knew, and he wasn't going to pry on that information. When they got in front of the bar, Demoman recognized both of them and yelled into the bar that they were both there.

When they went inside they were greeted with the usual sight. Scout was bugging the bartender for a drink, Soldier and Engineer were beside each other at the bar, laughing about some inside joke. Spy sat nearby at a table, puffing at his cigarette.

Beside him, however, was Medic. That was an unusual sight. Sniper wasn't used to Medic being around just yet, let alone with Spy. Their little conversation must have sparked a fast friendship, judging by the way they were speaking with each other in hushed tones.

Medic pulled away to look at Sniper, greeting him with a smile from behind his scarf and a small wave of his hand. Pauling ushered Sniper forward toward Medic and Spy.

Slowly, Sniper made his way forward. He was wary of the two, even if he shouldn't have been. While he sat down across from them, Pauling pulled away to make some calls on her phone. Whatever it was she was doing, it sounded urgent.

“Are you feeling better, _Herr_ Sniper?” Medic was the one to speak first, bringing Sniper's attention forward. His eyes glanced toward Medic's mouth and the movement didn't go unnoticed. Medic pulled his scarf up higher.

“Yeah… bleeding a little, but I'm… I'm alright.” Sniper sighed, leaning back against the booth. Spy, across from him, blew a curl of smoke into the air.

“Are you willing to stay here a while, bushman? We were planning on introducing the docteur here to the rest of the group.”

Sniper shrugged. “Wasn't even planning on coming here in the first place, so I don't see why not.”

“ _Trés bon_.” Spy smiled slowly. “I have the feeling tonight will be quite interesting.”

“What do you mean--” Sniper started, but was cut off when Miss Pauling returned.

“So Demo is picking up Pyro, since they stayed home, and then can all get started. Sound good?” She looked at Spy as she spoke, knowing something that Sniper didn't. How did she always know what was going on?

Sniper crossed his arms and huffed as he settled in to wait. He hoped it wouldn't be too long.

 

 

By the time Pyro and Demo arrived, Spy had encouraged Sniper to have a drink and Medic had joined, drinking while still, somehow, being able to hide his mouth. Every time Sniper looked at Medic again, his glass was just a little emptier. Did vampires even benefit from alcohol, or was he just downing the stuff so as not to be suspicious?

Things he’d have to ask once Medic admitted what he was to him.

He was still curious, of course, as to what Spy was. Not a vampire, that much was for sure. But what else was there that the guy could be? He didn’t seem like a werewolf - he remembered that conversation outside his camper, that Spy mentioned Demoman being a werewolf - and definitely not any sort of incubus or demon. Those were easy to spot, right?

With a sigh, he leaned against the table and took another drink.

Demoman threw himself into the seat next to him, startling him and causing his drink to drop onto the table. Spy made a face, quickly grabbing some napkins to clean the mess up while Demoman laughed.

“Alright, so everyone’s here, we might as well get started, aye?” Demoman’s arm was across the booth’s headrest. Sniper shifted slightly away from him.

“Might as well.” Spy said, sitting up straight. “Medic, if you didn’t know, this is Demoman, and Pyro.”

Spy gestured to each one, Pyro giving a cheerful wave. Medic raised his hand slightly, a little nervous. The Frenchman then turned his attention to Miss Pauling, who had her arms behind her back and a slightly irritated look across her face. Scout sat nearby, his smile dopey - apparently he’d been trying to hit on her again.

“This is Miss Pauling. She tends to… find work for us,” He said, and Medic nodded once more. She seemed kind, but rather small - was it safe for her to be doing such a dangerous job?

“I know that look. Yes, I can fend for myself.”

“Hell yeah she can--”

“Scout, I’m talking.” One short glare in Scout’s direction caused him to clam up, but the grin was still apparent on his face. “Anyway, yes, I wanted all of you here to discuss something. There’s been some activity around that I’m getting real suspicious of, and Helen is even starting to get nervous. Helen is the secretary to the mayor, Medic.” She saw his curious look before he even opened his mouth.

“There’s more vampire activity around than usual-- Looks like they’re starting to group up, and more people are going missing - I’m guessing they’re getting infected. Not only that, but these guys are desperate enough to go after the recently deceased. Those kinds of vampires are the worst, since they don’t have any of their humanity left. And I know a lot of you aren’t really trained to hunt vampires, but we’re going to need all the help we can get-- Yes, Medic?”

“So the same ones I was looking into…”

“Yes. They’re the same ones that are starting to crop up all over. And if the rest of you didn’t know, Medic here is trying to work on a cure for these vampires, so if we can save some of them and get them back to their families, that would be great - kill the ones that look mostly dead, but the ones that are more.. Well, alive? We want to cure them so their families can see them again.”

“There’s probably a lot more to this than we know, guys. Like that vampire that Sniper keeps running into… I’m pretty sure that’s the guy running this whole operation. I can’t tell quite yet, but from the way things are looking, he’s our best guess. If he isn’t, then we better get ready for a hell of a lot more.”

Most of the mercenaries seemed to understand this, taking in the information. Soldier seemed ready to fight whatever walked through the door next, and Engineer looked like he was making plans in his head for new devices to capture, kill, and hunt vampires.

“And if you guys know anyone who can help us with this, please, let me know-- Medic?”

“I know someone. He’s not in the States right now, but he’ll be back soon. He’s… He’s very strong. And trustworthy.” Medic seemed intent on this, pushing good things about this man forward. For a moment, Sniper had the sneaking suspicion that he might be talking about a lover with the way he was emphasising things, but shoved away that feeling of possessiveness. Hell, the doctor wasn’t even his - probably never would be since he was so scared to act on this crush of his.

Pauling just nodded slowly.

“When he’s back, let me meet him. And tell me _everything_ about him.”

 

 

Later, when Pauling finished discussing things with each mercenary, the group began to disperse. Engineer and Pyro left first, and then Soldier and Demoman quickly after. Scout lagged behind, trying to sweet-talk Miss Pauling, who was having none of that. She shut down each line he threw at her, visibly irritated by his insistence. Sniper had no idea why the kid was so incessant with his wooing of her, and decided that he really didn’t need to know.

Sniper found himself staying with Medic and Spy, sharing another drink and letting himself become a little more relaxed. The other two seemed to be doing the same, though Spy was far more in control of himself than the other two. Medic’s cheeks were flushing red by the time he had his third drink, and Sniper found himself staring at him.

“Something on my face?”  The doctor asked, touching his own cheeks. He smiled at the feeling of his cheeks burning. “Oh. Oh, I suppose-- I haven’t drank in a long time, not alcohol at least, of course I drink…”

Blood, perhaps, Sniper thought, but still couldn’t shake the attraction toward him.

Sniper shrugged slowly, taking another long drink. His glass was almost empty again. He kept his eyes on Medic as the other man slowly brought his glass up, his scarf getting in the way and causing him to laugh softly. That laugh was cute and he wanted to hear more of it, he decided.

The way that he was staring so intently at Medic had Spy a tad uncomfortable. The rogue took the moment to sneak out of the booth, paying the bartender and leaving. Sniper hardly noticed. His focus was on Medic’s mouth, hidden by that layer of fabric, if he’d just move it just a tiny bit more he could see--

A short glint of white showed behind the scarf when he went to take a drink, but Medic quickly realised what he did and recovered, shuffling his face under his scarf once more. Sniper cursed in his mind, determined to see what was there. He wondered if his fangs were long, like the monster-sized vampire he kept encountering, or if they were short, barely noticeable against a regular human’s teeth.

He could always ask, he supposed.

“Doc? Hey,” he waved his hand in front of Medic’s face, causing the other to make eye contact with a soft smile.

“Ja?”

“Why do you wear that-- That scarf all the time? Ain’t it hot?” He leaned against the table, his chin in his hand.

“Oh, it’s… I… I just… I’m self conscious…” Medic said, though he didn’t seem very confident in  that. “I don’t like my mouth. Or my teeth. Or much of my face at all, really.”

“You’ve got a right handsome face, you know that? Ain’t no reason to hide it.” That was a much farther step forward than he’d made before, but Sniper didn’t care at the moment -  a few drinks in and he was fine with stating what was on his mind. “I’d like to see you without that for once.”

“Don’t-- Don’t expect it,” Medic said, his face flushing further than it was before. Sniper made a face, disappointed, but didn’t push. He just shrugged slowly.

“Yeah, well, you’re still a looker. Even without seeing your mouth, I can tell you that much.”

Sniper enjoyed the way Medic looked when he complimented him; flushed and looking away, as though it was something that never happened. He’d have to do it more.

 

 

Really shouldn’t drink with the other mercenaries, Sniper thought as he opened the door to his camper. It never ended well, and he always had the worst hangovers afterward. Thankfully Demoman hadn’t encouraged him to drink the real hard stuff this time around, so maybe he’d be spared the worst of it.

Still, he made sure to eat something before he laid down in bed, staring at the ceiling for a long while. He thought back to the day’s events, how mundane they were until he encountered Miss Pauling. Her explanation of things made him so curious about how she knew so much, about why she needed to know these things….

He thought about his encounter with Medic, how after Spy left he threw himself in and tried to start something. He wondered if he had done anything different, would Medic have shown him his teeth?  Maybe if he’d just thrown himself across the table and kissed him--

No, no, that was way too far, but now that the thought was there he couldn’t get it out of his head. What would it feel like, to kiss someone with fangs? Would they scrape his lip, draw blood? Or would Medic be gentle against him, making sure not to let his teeth get in the way at all?

What would those teeth feel like on his neck? His collarbone, his chest, his--

God, he was getting in too deep. Sniper knew he shouldn’t, but the more he thought about the possibility of Medic’s teeth on him in so many places, he couldn’t resist the temptation to touch his skin in numerous places. He pressed his fingers against his neck, then under the collar of his shirt, blunt nails digging in. He unbuttoned his shirt, pulling it off with a short puff of air, pressing his nails to his chest and abdomen.

Maybe Medic’s nails were sharp, he thought, maybe that’s why he wore gloves when he touched him. Maybe he had near-claws. That thought only made Sniper want more.

He bit his lip, hand trailing over his chest and down to the button on his pants. He struggled getting them off in the cramped space of his bunk but managed to do so with minimal bumping on the wall, tossing them down onto the floor. A relieved sigh came from his lips as he freed himself from his tightening jeans. His fingernails of one hand dug into his thighs, the other still on his own neck. Maybe one day he could get Medic to touch him like this, claws and teeth scraping against his skin. Sniper looked forward to it.

For now, he had to make due with what he had: his own hands. He scraped his nails along his thighs and opened his eyes, looking down. His boxers were still on but he was obviously already hard under them, wetness showing through the thin fabric. He grunted softly as he pulled those away as well, his fingers immediately wrapping around his cock and stroking.

His thoughts raced, images of Medic’s teeth still on his mind as he worked himself. He was struck with the image of Medic going down on him, wrapping his mouth around him. His teeth might barely scrape against him, he realised, and groaned despite himself. He thought of Medic teasing him with the sensation, his hand working faster, thumb rubbing at the head of his cock to spread the moisture that collected.

His own hand was not nearly as good as a warm mouth would be, but still he imagined that hot, wet feeling of someone sucking him in deep. He bucked his hips and imagined Medic on him, taking him as deep as he could as he fucked his mouth. He wanted to grab onto something but his sheets were all he had. His grip tightened on the fabric as he moved his hips along with his hand, panting.

“Shit, shit, oh god,” Sniper shut his eyes, leaning his head back. His hand quickened, slick sounds pushing him further. He was so close, stuck in the thought of Medic taking him down his throat when another idea crossed his mind. Medic could bite him all over, bend him over and fuck him as his teeth dug into his shoulder. That thought pushed him over the edge, letting out a loud cry as he came over his chest and stomach.

When he came down from his high he felt ashamed - he barely knew the guy and here he was, thinking of him fucking him all because he apparently had a kink for being bitten.

Sniper grabbed the nearest shirt and wiped himself off, pulling a pair of boxers on and rolling over to sleep. Maybe he’d feel less bad about it in the morning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sniper, no, that's not polite.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> BACKSTORY BACKSTORY BACKSTORY FOR SPY (AND SCOUT)  
> if there's any errors please tell me because i am very tired as i post this

Sniper did not feel much better the next morning. He, in fact, felt worse - hungover and with a slight headache, he thought back to his actions the prior night. As he downed a dose of painkillers he winced; Both at the sudden pain and thinking of how he got off to the thought of Medic because he was getting far too excited about a man with fangs.

He eventually settled down in his couch with a mug of coffee, staring out the window. The blinds were pulled up halfway, letting him see the road outside - it was almost noon, and the brightness was hurting his eyes a bit, but he could put up with it for now.

Sighing heavily, he took a long drink and contemplated his next actions. He figured it would be best if he avoided Medic for the day, seeing as how he’d most likely end up red in the face the moment he saw the doctor. Then again, if Medic just called him, he’d have less of a problem talking to him. Perhaps he’d stay the day in his camper, drive for a while and wait for a call. Or head out to call his parents - they’d probably enjoy an update as to what he was doing. Sniper scoffed at the thought of telling his parents what was going on. His mother would pester him about finding a partner first, he knew.

_Yeah, mum, found a guy alright - a vampire. Proud of me yet?_

Maybe the call home could wait a while. Maybe until he actually settled on whether Medic was interested in him or not. His parents knew of his preferences - his mother had told him that she didn’t care if he ended up with a man or a woman, she just wanted him happy. But telling his parents he was interested in a vampire?  Probably not the best idea.

…. The call could definitely wait, he thought.

 

 

 

The Spy often missed his home in France - the family he was from had vineyards and _châteaux_ with land that stretched for miles. Living in Teufort was so different, yet he wouldn't move back to France even if he could.

His family there shunned him - he had fallen for a human and they'd given him the choice to be with her and be exiled from the family, or to drop her and the children he'd fathered.

Spy's choice was obvious.

He had a new family here. A bit torn up, and secrets hidden behind lies told to his children, but they were still his, and their mother was still his beloved.

His wife - a mother to many children, but a hard worker with metaphorical claws that could kill any man who dared to look at her wrong. They had met years ago, and Spy remembered it like it was a recording, word for word.

 

_"A fairy out in these parts?" Her accent was taunting, and her painted lips turned up into a smile. He'd just seen her kill an incubus with such grace and ease he'd never seen before. It rivaled his own skill in hunting demons, silent and swift._

_"A petite woman, out hunting incubi? Isn't that dangerous?" Spy teased her right back - he knew he was getting into something when he noticed the steel on her person. But he didn't back down. In fact, he showed off - a sharp flash of magic behind him showed, just for a moment, a pair of insect-like wings. They vanished, yet the woman's eyes were still focused on where they had been._

_"Isn't approaching a woman with a load of steel on her just as dangerous?"_

_"Mm, perhaps." The Spy grinned, stepping closer to her. "But perhaps I like my women with a bit of danger to them."_

 

Their relationship had begun on a mutual fascination; Spy's with the idea of such a small woman hunting such dangerous and deadly monsters, hers with the interest in a fairy shunned from his own people. Years of hunting beside each other drove them closer and closer together, countless monsters killed and reformed between the two of them. Their first child was born before Spy even contemplated marriage, but that sealed the deal for him. It only took another year for them to make it official - but yet they kept their rings off their fingers and his wife settled into a home with her children. Spy was reluctant to leave, but he did so at her request - they loved each other deeply and surely, but couldn't let their children feel the tug of fairy magic that would tempt them to run at a young age.

Their marriage was kept secret for the sake of their children - most had, at this point, learned of their heritage. The children embraced it after years of denial, putting forth their magic ability combined with their mother’s fierce temper to hunt monsters and fairies still in the traditional society. Spy was proud of each one that he had properly met, each son strong enough to counter him in battle.

One, though….

Spy knew Scout's abilities would manifest soon. He was already beginning to show the very slightest of fairy instincts. He kept a close eye on his youngest son, waiting for the moment to jump in and help, to tell him his ancestry… Spy often wondered how Scout was going to react. Telling a teenaged boy he was half fairy was never fun - and with someone like Scout, it was going to be difficult.

Of course, Scout knew what Spy was. He'd seen the Frenchman perform magic on numerous occasions, on jobs and in the bar with the rest of the mercenaries. It was safe enough to do so now. Spy would admit that he enjoyed showing off every now and again, since fairy magic was far different than a wizard's magic.

Scout's mother had already told Spy that she wanted her last son to be trained as well as his father - Spy wasn't sure that could ever happen, but he was sure as hell going to try. He couldn’t give training such as he received, but Scout’s brothers were still around and had fought before, so there was no reason they couldn’t help.

Preferably before Scout's new instincts got him killed by Miss Pauling. The combination of a fairy’s urge to carry on the magic lineage and a teenaged boy’s hormonal attitude was dangerous, far more so when confronted with a _succubus_.

Thankfully, Spy thought, Pauling didn’t seem interested in taking advantage of such an easy target. He wondered if there was a good reason for that, or if she was just focused on her job. She _did_ seem awful attached to her work. No matter the case, Spy was going to keep an eye on her and his son; He didn’t want any sort of mishap to cause something between the two, and the idea of mixing fairy and succubus lineage sounded dreadful.

 Just a little while longer, he told himself, and Scout will be aware enough that he could tell him. Perhaps, then, he would be able to be with his _petite_  permanently. 

  


“Helen? I've spoken to the mercenaries. They seem to be alright with fighting off those vampires.” Miss Pauling peeked her head into Helen's private office, glancing down at her clipboard.  “Sniper still isn't aware of the… status of his team mates. Should we tell him soon?”

“Perhaps. Or we could let him find out on his own - let him sort things with the others on his own.” Pauling couldn't see Helen's face, but she could see the curl of smoke from her boss’s cigarette holder.

“...Got it. Anything else you need me to get done right away?”

“Just one. Take your suppressants, Pauling. The way that fairy boy ogles you should make it obvious that your dose is running out.”

“Yeah… Thanks. I'll do that right now.”

Pauling shuffled off down the hall, making her way to the inner part of the building. She hated taking her suppressants - blood and gore with others didn't phase her, but shoving a needle into her own arm? She shivered at the thought.

Nonetheless, she unlocked her medicine locker to pull the needles she needed out, psyching herself up for her dosage.

Being a succubus who was more interested in work than human interaction was rough. Plus, she didn't have _time_ to find a girlfriend, much less a human one that would let her do what she needed when she needed it.

So suppressants would do the job for now, curbing her need for energy and pressing the succubus magic back. She sighed, making sure the syringe was empty before pulling it from her skin.

Hopefully that would last her another week. Pauling put a bandage around the spot she had given herself her dosage and turned back toward Helen’s office.

 

 

 

Medic called Engineer for help once dusk fell. He'd told the man that he needed help with a project soon, and Engineer had promised that he'd be awake at night most of the time.

He was glad Spy had introduced him to the Engineer - he had ideas for weapons that would help himself and Sniper in many ways. His first idea was one to hopefully get him out on jobs alongside the Sniper. He craved the excitement of trailing something, taking its blood from its body…

Perhaps that was the vampire instinct in him, but he figured that if he used the blood solely for experimentation, there would be no worry.

When Engineer answered his call, they made agreements to meet in Medic's lab. The doctor had decided that if someone was coming to visit then he had to clean the lab and his home, and spent the day doing so with the blinds shut and the lights off.

Once the two of them began working, there was no stopping them - they batted ideas back and forth and finally settled on a weapon that would suit the Medic's needs and have a convenience factor to it. Guns were tossed out, since Medic needed to be far steadier with his aim for what he wanted, and he was sure his aim was still terrible.

A draft for a medicine-processing pack was made up and stashed for later. Medic hoped it was going to be something that would help in his efforts to create a cure. They'd attach the pack to a hose-like end or a large syringe; whichever proved more effective in dispensing the medication he created.

What they settled on for the time being was a crossbow loaded with syringes. Empty ones, with the plunger pushed in and an automatic trigger on them.

Once they hit blood, Engineer explained, the plunger would be popped back and the capsule would fill, making blood harvesting much easier and efficient than Medic's prior tactic of hiring someone to get the blood for him manually. Of course he still wanted Sniper's help - he needed someone to watch his back, after all.   

They'd dubbed the weapon 'The Crusader’, given its medical cross symbols etched into it. Medic loved the weapon and he hadn't even gotten a chance to use it - Engineer made sure to give him several syringes with the trigger system on them, then took his drafts for the medicine gun and left for the night.

Medic, of course, sat and studied his new toy. It was an exciting thought, going on jobs with Sniper. The weight and position of the crossbow felt steady enough that he'd be able to aim for vital areas fairly easily. He looked forward to using it.

And then he realised: he'd never used a crossbow in his life.

He hurried over to his phone and dialed Sniper's number. Surely a sharpshooter knew how to use a crossbow.

 

 

 

Sniper was not looking forward to the inevitable call from Medic. He let the phone ring several times before picking it up, answering in the steadiest voice possible.

“Herr Sniper!” Medic  was, seemingly, excited on the other end. “Engineer and I have been working on a new piece of equipment.”

“Yeah? It's important, I'm guessing?” Sniper leaned against his counter, covering his eyes with his free hand.

“ _Ja!_ We made it so I can accompany you on jobs.”

“Accompany…. What?” Medic wanted to… join him on hunts? Sniper's hand dropped onto his countertop, causing a soft smack, “You want to go on hunts.”

“Yes! I'm hoping it will make things much smoother, since I'll be the one collecting the samples. You'd just have to protect me, if that makes sense?”

“I mean… that sounds alright.” Sniper couldn't help the way his voice wavered. Medic didn't seem to notice and continued on.

“There's one problem, though…” Medic's voice quieted, and Sniper had to strain to hear him. “It's a crossbow, and I'm afraid I've never used one before. Do you think you could teach me?”

A crossbow. A doctor with a crossbow, killing vampires. The image was quite amusing in Sniper's mind.

“I mean… I don't see why not--”

“ _Wunderbar_! Meet me at my lab, won't you? Quickly, please!”

Sniper didn't get a chance to protest before Medic hung up. Looks like he was going to Medic's lab, then.

  


Medic was waiting quite patiently near his front door, checking the window every now and again for Sniper's camper to appear. Perhaps he was a bit forceful on that request - he should have asked if Sniper wanted to help him first…

Well, too late now, he supposed - he'd already told Sniper to visit with the intention of learning this new weapon of his. He knew he wouldn't master it in a week, but he felt that he could grasp the idea of it quickly enough.

And with Sniper teaching him, it would be easier… He was, after all, a _Sniper_.

A knock on his door alerted Medic to his expected visitor, making him jump up to swing the door open. Sniper stood in front of him, wearing what looked to be the same clothes as the day before, with his hat dropped onto his head. Medic happily ushered him inside, watching Sniper survey the place.

He couldn't really see Sniper's eyes because of the shades he always wore, but he could see from the rest of his face that the interior of the home was not what the Australian expected.

“I know, it's quite old fashioned in here… There's something beautiful about older architecture, isn't there?” The home had been modeled after older-styled houses. From the archways to the door frames, there was intricate woodwork and staining all over the place.

“This isn't really where I work, though… Follow me.” Medic turned, heading toward the basement.

Sniper was struck with a strange feeling. He was in a vampire's home, being led to god knows where. Glancing around as they walked, Sniper realized they were headed to the basement.

Well, scratch that off a list of things he never thought he'd do. Visit a vampire's basement where he situated his lab.

And what a lab it was, Sniper realized. Once Medic opened the door, he saw the entirety of the basement. Desks and tables had been shoved against walls, with equipment strewn all over the place. Beakers and jars filled with what Sniper assumed was blood littered the desks, with a small fridge situated on top of one table. He assumed that it wasn't for food.

He looked from Medic to the numerous experiments apparently going on. The doctor simply smiled, buzzing along toward the crossbow situated on one of the desks. He picked it up and held it as he assumed it was to be held, and Sniper’s focus broke from looking around the room to the doctor’s terrible posture.

“That’s not how you hold one of those, doc.” He said, and stepped over to him. He took the crossbow from the doctor’s hands gently, showing him how to properly hold the weapon.

“You have to hold this like a rifle, you know.” Sniper held the crossbow up, hunching forward instinctively. It wasn’t loaded, but his finger still went to the trigger immediately. “This thing is pretty well made. Engineer use a crossbow he got from somewhere as the base?”

Medic nodded slowly. “He said it would be fastest to work from something already built. He did quite a lot to it.”

“I can tell.” Sniper stood straight once more, handing the crossbow back to Medic. “I’m gonna have to show you how to get a real good aim on this thing. Hold it like I did.”

He watched as the doctor lifted the crossbow, holding it just as Sniper had. Medic squinted, tempted to take his glasses off so he could focus down the sightline easier. But that would just be strange, wouldn’t it? He didn’t need his glasses, but now that he was seen with them on it would be strange if he took them off and said he could see better without them.

Nonetheless, he smiled as Sniper nodded once at him.

“Now, can you shoot it? Got any bolts?”

“Oh, this thing doesn’t use bolts. Here,” Medic lowered the weapon to grab the syringes that would be loaded into the gun, showing them to Sniper. The needles were longer than Sniper’s index finger, the tanks easily the size of his palm. Each one had a medical cross etched into the tank, outlined in red.

“Holy dooley… _That’s_ what you’re loading into this thing?” Sniper gaped at the size of the needles, suddenly very grateful that Medic was _not_ his doctor. Medic laughed, loading the syringe into the crossbow’s chamber. He cocked the weapon, hefting it up once more.

“Alright… I’m not sure I know exactly how to fire this, but let’s see…” Sniper watched as Medic stared intently down the sight, aiming for something on the wall. He stepped back behind the doctor, watching at a safe distance to make sure he was steady. After a moment, he shook his head.

“You’ve got it wrong. You’re aiming for that map up there, aren’t you?”

“ _Ja_ , why? Am I holding it too low?” Medic lowered the crossbow with a frown, looking back at Sniper. The Australian rolled his eyes and stepped forward.

“You’re not steadying yourself enough. Look, you have to hold yourself like this,” He said, and grabbed Medic’s arm. Standing behind him, Sniper realized that they were just a bit closer than the doctor might have been comfortable with. He didn’t step back, and Medic didn’t protest, so he continued.

“Lean over a bit, doc,” He said, and guided Medic into a better angle. His voice unintentionally dropped to a whisper. “You have to be able to keep yourself real steady so you don’t miss your shot by even an inch.”

Medic’s cheeks flushed red as he nodded, swallowing harshly. He steadied his grip, holding the crossbow up to look down the sight once more. He felt Sniper’s hand on his elbow, guiding him once again.

“You keep slacking. Look through the scope and focus on Europe on that big map of yours, alright? You’re German, yeah? Show me where you’re from.” Sniper’s hand left Medic’s elbow but he stayed fairly close. Not close enough to get hit by recoil, of course, but close enough that Medic still felt his presence behind him.

Medic tried to shake that feeling of Sniper beside him, whispering against him. It was really messing with his focus.

Breathing deep, Medic aimed for Germany on the map, staring it down. Another breath. He steadied himself further, his feet planted on the ground, and…

Missed when he fired.

“Well, you hit Russia. Kind of a hard thing to miss, though.”

“Perhaps I just need more practice,” Medic said, trying to hide the flush on his face, ducking further into his jacket collar. Sniper laughed from somewhere behind him.

“Yeah. Here, let me show you that again.” Once more, warm hands were on his elbows, guiding his posture into the correct position. Medic wouldn’t lie - he wanted to get as many inaccurate shots as possible so Sniper had an excuse to touch him more. It had been _how long_ since he’d had the chance to get close to someone? And even in his younger years, he had to sneak around and be careful in case he got caught.

Now? It didn’t seem like anyone cared too much - they were too caught up in everything else going on in the world to care about whether a man wanted to kiss another man.

Wait, why was he thinking about this? Kissing Sniper should be the last thing on his mind - he should be focusing on work, on getting the cure made so he could finally be fully human again. Medic breathed slowly through his nose, focusing on the aim of the crossbow. Sniper pulled away to grab another one of the syringes, leaning over Medic’s shoulder to load it into the bow.

Medic couldn’t help the way he leaned in against Sniper, taking the moment in before he pulled away once more. Sniper didn’t seem to notice, or he wasn’t phased by Medic’s movements. He simply cleared his throat and showed Medic the correct aim again.

This time he shot much closer to Germany on the map, landing his arrow in nearby Poland instead. He smiled, looking back at Sniper. The Australian grinned, nodding.

“You’re getting this. Again?” Sniper’s voice was doing that low rumble again. He went to take Medic’s arms once more and the doctor allowed it, taking in all the gentle touches and attention that he could. He wouldn’t make a move and he wouldn’t mention Sniper’s advances from the other night when they were both a bit tipsy, just to try to keep things under control.

The thunking of syringes against the map was the only sound Medic tried to focus on in between the whisper of Sniper’s voice. Each time Sniper spoke it went straight through his chest, his knees weakening. But he held himself high, focused on the task at hand. He could take the time to admire Sniper’s voice later, he told himself.

Shoot, reload, shoot, reload. That was how the next few hours of Medic’s time went, with Sniper creeping away to pick the syringes from the wall to return them to Medic for more practice. Perhaps the doctor snuck a look or two at the sharpshooter’s ass when he had to reach upward to get a needle from the wall - but that was only for himself to know.

By the time Sniper left, Medic was in quite a similar position as the poor Australian had been the night before. The sound of Sniper's voice whispered into his ear replayed in his head as the sun rose and he got ready for bed, but he resisted the urge to do much about it. He could wait. He could test the waters and see how Sniper felt about him before he went too far. Self-control was a blessing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> doc stop that's gay  
> (no that's fine please continue being gay)


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WOAH HELLO  
> I had no internet for a while! But here's chapter nine. Chapter ten is being written and let me warn you.... It's going to be quite a rollercoaster.

Miles away from Teufort, vampires were beginning to come together to form a much larger force. At the head of the newly formed vampire militia, the monstrous vampire that was so intent on killing Sniper took his place. He'd found out from one of his own mercenaries that the Australian was still alive and most definitely not infected, and took it upon himself to strengthen his ranks. 

He'd found himself his own Sniper, his own Spy, and several other specialists. 

He needed to be prepared. His Spy had approached him earlier that night about possibly finding a doctor for the team - the guy was supposed to be coming in any time now. 

Getting more specialized vampires beside him was going to make his job a hell of a lot easier. His Spy - the first man who decided to help him - had already proven himself numerous times with information about the monster hunters in Teufort. Each member of that group was going to be combated with someone faster and stronger than them. 

Spy made sure every member he recruited could be trusted entirely - if he approached someone and found out they might turn on them or had conflicting ideas, he'd kill them. He searched for both vampires and humans, people he could bring to his boss to turn. 

As long as they kept the steady flow of healthy blood and newcomers coming in, they were fine - and the boss had plans to convince this new doctor of theirs to make something stronger for them. 

Just as he was contemplating what to tell the guy, his Spy peeked his head in.

“He's here. Should I send him in, boss?”

“Why the hell not,” He said, and watched the door after Spy left. 

When his visitor arrived, it was already obvious he was a doctor. He wore a pristine white coat and had a pair of round glasses on his face. He was older, too, he noted. The guy's hair was practically white on each side, but his face…. He looked incredibly healthy. 

“You're the boss, then? I was told to call you as such.” His German accent was almost hard to understand. 

“That'd be me. The other guys around here aren't nearly smart enough to be leading something like this.”

“That can be to your advantage. They're easier to manipulate that way.” The doctor took the chair near his without asking, already asserting himself. “I'm afraid you won't get that from me.”

The boss laughed.

“Don't need to. As long as you do what I tell you, we won't have any problems.”

“Yes, yes, follow the leader and such, I understand. I have a few things I must ask of you, however.”

“Yeah? And what's that gonna be?”

“Oh, I just need to find someone, have some time for my own experimentation-- and supplies, of course.” The doctor fiddled with his own fingers, shrugging.

“That ain't much.” Contemplating, the heavy vampire scratched at his chin. “And I don't see why not.”

“Good. I'll bring some of my things over here - I've got equipment of my own.” The doctor smiled, fangs bared for the boss to see. Usually such a thing was a display of dominance. Now, it seemed, it was something the doctor was using to show off. 

Their discussion waned into talk of the experiments he planned on performing with help from the rest of the vampires. The boss also brought up his own ideas, which the doctor seemed quite interested in. 

“You can take the lower level. And use any of the guys here for your weird tests - Spy told me you're making a serum that needs testing.” The boss stood as well. “Never caught your name though.”

“Oh? I apologise. It's Milo Ludwig.”

  
  


Medic, still giddy about his encounter with Sniper the other night, had trouble sleeping through the day. He kept waking up due to half-dreams of the Australian touching him, whispering into his ear. He felt like a teenager again, wanting to be touched by the guy he liked. 

Of course, when he was a teenager, touching other boys his age was dangerous. He had been raised in a time when it was seen as a sin, where he had to hide any hint of affection he felt for any other man. The few times he did try, the experiences weren't nearly as nice as he would have liked. 

His siblings knew. Thankfully, his sisters had been more than happy to hold onto his secret. His brother, as well - Milo always covered for him, making excuses as to why he wasn't home or why he wasn't looking at getting married or whatever the neighbors decided to ask that day. Medic knew his family had loved him. And he missed them more every day. 

But now was not the time to be thinking of the past - he had things to take care of tonight. He hurried down to his lab to begin work on the next part of his project once he was awake enough to function. 

 

Mikhail hated flying. He hated planes. He hated the process of security. He simply  _ hated flying _ , especially from Russia to the United States. There were so many questions, so much that he had to take care of when going from one country to the next. 

But it was worth it when he got to see his best friend - they were centuries apart in ages and yet his friend still respected him and treated him as an equal. Sometimes, he helped him improve his English. Other times the two of them simply spent time playing games like chess or similarly logical things - they both enjoyed testing themselves against each other. 

And that was nice. Mikhail was used to people in the states thinking of him as an idiot because his English wasn't nearly as good as it could be. But not his doctor. His doctor knew how smart he could be, how he could outwit the elder in just about any game of logic. 

So, naturally, he missed him. He missed him enough that his first stop was the doctor's home. His own home probably needed to be checked up on, but he didn't care. He knocked on the door, aware of his own strength when doing so. He'd broken the doctor's door once before - he didn't want to do that again. 

Slowly, the door opened after several moments. With the moon outside shining, Mikhail was granted the view of the doctor's face, pale against the silver light. His eyes brightened when he saw his friend and the door was swung open, the doctor grinning ear to ear. 

“Misha!” Immediately, he embraced the other man, pulling away to smile at him. 

“I want expecting you back for another week… oh, come in!”

The two shuffled inside, the door locked behind them. Medic lead Mikhail into the living room, sitting him down and scurrying off to make a cup of tea for him. Mikhail waited patiently, fiddling with books on the table beside him. The doctor seemed to be in much better spirits since he'd left - perhaps he made more progress on his cure?

Medic returned with two mugs of tea, sitting across from him with a happy grin. With Mikhail, he felt no need to hide, baring his fangs without fear. 

“So? How was your trip home?” The doctor leaned slightly, eyes expectant. Mikhail smiled.

“Oh, was good. Zhanna’s first change went good. No one hurt.” He took a long drink from his mug as the doctor nodded. 

“That's good to hear, my friend.” Medic seemed pleased to hear that. There was discussion of Mikhail's siblings for quite some time before the topic changed, shifting over to Medic's work on a cure. He brightened more than earlier, excited to talk about his work. 

“Ja, ja! I've gotten help - there's a group of hunters in town, you know, and they're helping… Mostly their Sniper,” He paused, his cheeks flushing. Mikhail didn't miss that detail and grinned. “Very nice people… they're all like us, you know.”

“Vampires and--?”

“Oh, no, there's a fairy and a werewolf and a wizard… Only one human.”

“And who is that?”

“The… The Sniper.”

“This Sniper is helping? He knows?”

“Well-- no,” Medic avoided Mikhail's eyes. “But I do plan on telling him! Soon! He's just, you know… A trained vampire hunter.”

Mikhail stared at him for several long moments, then repeated his words. 

“A trained--”

“Vampire hunter, ja, but he's so kind, Misha! He hasn't once put up a fight about helping me and be even helped me learn to shoot a crossbow--”

“Crossbow?”

“Ja, ja, so I can go out hunting too!”

“Doctor, is dangerous!”

“I am well aware of that, but I just need a little more, and maybe I'll be able to make the cure work for longer than a few minutes…”

“If doctor gets hurt--”

“Then I'll recover. Misha, this is important.”

Their conversation trailed off after that, the two sitting in silence for quite some time. 

 

It was later when the two left Medic's home, headed for the bar after a call to Spy. The Frenchman confirmed that he would be around and would call the rest of the mercenaries. He was told that Engineer and Pyro were out on a job, so they wouldn't be able to come by. But the nonhuman members of the group would come around to meet their new ally. 

At first, Mikhail was hesitant to meet the others. They knew of his doctor's condition, and they knew he wasn't human… but what would they think of what he was?

Well - it seemed the answer was coming faster than he expected. When they found somewhere to sit down at the bar, the fairy approached first. He introduced himself as a Spy and explained that the mercenaries all had names aside from their legal ones, just in case. 

In case of what, he'd asked, and Spy seemed to contemplate. 

“Some monsters, when given your real name, can hold power over you.” Good enough.

Once the rest of the mercenaries were in the bar and everyone was settled, Medic cheerfully introduced Mikhail - without using his name. He explained that he was quite a fearsome fighter and a protector of his family. 

“And,” Medic said, raising a finger for emphasis. “He just so happens to be….” 

The doctor turned his eyes to Mikhail, who seemed a tad embarrassed to be put on the spot. He was thankful that he hadn't had to speak much, given his problems with English. But…

“Werebear.”

There were interested sounds from the others in the room, and a gleeful noise from Demo. The Scotsman slapped Mikhail on the shoulder with a laugh. 

“We'll be getting along right well, now won't we?”

Mikhail nodded slowly. Then, Scout piped up from the other side.

“We gotta call him something, yeah? Let's just call him Heavy. Cause he's so big.”

“Scout!” Pauling stared at him, mouth open in shock. “That's-- That's really rude--”

“No, no,” Mikhail waved his hands. “Is good. Am big, da? Heavy is fine.”

The rest of the group seemed to be fine with this - his new name was thrown around several times. It would take some getting used to, but he supposed it would be fine if he was helping a bigger cause. 

  
  


Sniper took the next several weeks to help the Medic train his crossbow skills - he took him out on hunts in Teufort, killing vampires too weak to fight back. He was getting better at his aim and Sniper seemed pleased by this - the touches he gave him were softer, his hands no longer hesitant to hold his arm or wrap around his waist to pull him away from a dangerous situation. 

Medic still hadn't told him, of course - Mikhail scolded him now and again but had warmed up to Sniper after meeting him. 

He also seemed to nudge Medic whenever the Australian was brought into conversation. The poor doctor would flush each time and shake his head at his friend.

In time, he said, and left it at that. 


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :3c

A month and a half of training and Medic was pestering Sniper to take him on an actual job. The sharpshooter reluctantly agreed after Medic gave him more information on locations. It seemed even with the constant work they were doing, he was still finding new jobs. Sniper wondered just how Medic was finding this information, but decided that it was probably some strange vampire thing that he didn't want to ask about. 

The one they settled on was out of town, in an abandoned hospital. Derelict and barred off for safety, Medic had gotten word that there were vampires holing themselves up inside to stay alive. 

Sniper said they could go along on the condition that someone came with them. Medic was fine with that, suggesting Heavy almost immediately. 

When they were in the bar next, they spoke to the other mercenaries. Some were busy - Engineer and Pyro and Soldier had a job to go on that night. The mercenaries that were free, though, said they'd tail along. 

So Sniper ended up with Medic beside him in the front of his van while Spy and Scout took the back of the van. Heavy drove another truck, trailing after them with Demoman beside him. A group of six mercenaries was a fearsome sight, and Medic was insistent that they would need all the help they could get. Why, Sniper didn’t know.

Sniper wouldn't admit he was scared of the mission. But he was. 

Who needed six mercenaries for one job?

 

Pulling onto the side of the road, the mercenaries gathered outside Sniper's van to discuss their next actions. They didn't want to drive up directly to the hospital for fear of alerting their new enemy, but they sure as hell wanted their getaway vehicles close by. In the dim dusk light, the headlights on both vehicles would be a very quick giveaway. 

They settled on leaving the vehicles by the road and having Scout pull them up closer. The youngest mercenary groaned and complained about doing so but agreed nonetheless. After the others were inside, he'd pull the van up and follow them inside, with Spy waiting outside to help. 

Of course, the rest of the mercenaries were more than prepared to get on with the entire ordeal already. Medic's crossbow was slung over his shoulder, spare syringes in the pouch at his side. Sniper had a tough time contemplating if he wanted his rifle or his bow - he didn't want to make much noise, but the impact of the rifle would be much more effective if they were cornered….

Rifle it was. He made sure he had extra bullets, extra stakes, extra everything. His shiv was strapped to his belt and he clipped jars of holy water to his belt as well. He needed to refill on that soon, he realised. 

He was nervous. The amount of danger Medic had seemed to imply was more than Sniper would have liked. And to bring Medic along on such a big job when he was only barely trained with the crossbow? It was a stupid idea - but the doctor had been persistent and had refused to give Sniper another job until he was allowed to go along. 

Sniper felt a wave of protectiveness come over him as he stepped outside of his camper once again and saw Medic talking to Heavy. He'd stay near the doctor and watch his back. He'd make sure he was safe. 

“Herr Sniper! Are you ready to go now?” Medic smiled at him from behind his scarf, and Sniper nodded slowly. 

“Yeah. Just had to be sure I got everything.” He tossed his keys to Scout, who clambered up into the driver's side of the van. 

“Spy, got your phone on you?”

“Of course. You'll call when you're inside?”

“Yeah. Thanks, Spook.”

Sniper stepped beside Medic and they fell into step together, walking toward the barred off building. Heavy and Demoman walked behind them. 

“What do you expect us to find in there, doc?”

“I'm not one hundred percent sure, but…. Vampires.” The doctor grinned, and Sniper rolled his eyes. “In all seriousness, however… As I was reading, people have apparently been seeing a lot of movement near here, and plenty of people have gone missing.”

“So basic vampire activity.”

“Yes-- and no. People are also spreading rumors that the vampires in here look close to human… they've implied that some people in the nearby towns might be frequenting this hospital because, they're, well…”

“Vampires looking for a place to hide out and take their food?”

“Ja. These men could be very, very dangerous, Sniper.” Medic paused in his steps and put his hand on Sniper's arm.  Sniper wished for a moment that the doctor didn’t have his gloves on so he could feel the warmth of his hand. “Please be safe.”

Sniper felt his cheeks flush, and heard Heavy behind him let out a loud puff of air. He swallowed. 

“Yeah-- You too, doc.” He didn't dare make any advance, not with Heavy behind them. Instead, he smiled at Medic in that awkward smile of his and ushered him forward once again. 

Sniper sincerely hoped that with all the mercenaries they had, Medic would be safe. 

 

“Are you sure this is safe?” The newly recruited vampire was sitting on an operating table, eyes wide. His goggles and half of his uniform were on the table beside him. Milo, standing in front of him, shrugged. His own uniform, new and blueish gray like the rest of the team's, made him look bulkier. He'd taken the chest armor and the headgear off, both pieces dropped onto the counter. 

“Who knows. But I'm still going to try.” He readied several syringes, filled with what looked like blood - he had assured the newly recruited Scout that it wasn't  _ just _ blood. It was something he was creating to help splice vampires in with other monsters - in this case, he had created a serum using blood harvested from both vampires and fairies. If he could figure out a way to get the two to work together…

Well, being able to infect a fairy would make things easier for him. Just as he was pushing the syringe into the smaller vampire’s arm, there was a bang from the other room. He decided to ignore it and continue with his work, focusing on whether there were any side effects from the serum. The Scout didn’t seem to be reacting too badly, which was positive. He turned to mess with the other tools on his counter, listening for Scout’s noises of pain.

The other mercenary didn’t seem to be making much of a fuss - which was a shame, it was so much more fun to work with patients in pain. But that didn’t matter much at the current moment - Milo readied more syringes with the different serums he’d created. Werewolf, fairy, kitsune, basilisk, harpy… He had collected as many samples as he could. Try as he might, he couldn’t get his hands on some of the more powerful beasts that he wanted, though. 

For now… For now, he’d settle on fairies and werewolves as his main projects. He’d try to get their Soldier in next to experiment on. 

Another bang sounded in the corridor and he groaned, rolling his eyes. Who was making such a fuss right  _ now _ ?

 

One thing Sniper learned about Medic while training him: he was  _ fast.  _ The man could run twice as fast as Sniper himself, which was impressive, seeing as how Sniper’s legs were much, much longer. He didn’t mind - it just meant it was a little harder to settle into a comfortable tracking pace with him beside him. Sniper made sure there were no distractions before checking his phone and setting the screen to call - he’d hit the button the moment they met danger.

For now, the four mercenaries tracked silently through the halls of the hospital, weapons readied. Sniper lead the group after whispering to Medic that he was far more experienced in tracking. Heavy and Demoman were surprisingly quiet - Sniper had expected at least Heavy to have trouble keeping his steps light but he was shocked and pleased to find that the man was able to keep his boots silent against the linoleum. 

They crept through the hallways, keeping eyes and ears open for any type of movement. There were dim lights on down the hall and Sniper didn't like the look of that. From what he knew, vampires could see fairly well in the dark. Why would they need lighting?

He ushered the others to slow down to a halt and pressed himself up against the wall, leaning toward the door to keep himself out of the line of sight of whatever was in there. 

Apparently he wasn't careful enough - or whatever was there had some very good senses, because something came from the doorway and hit his cheekbone, cutting him. He grabbed at his face and motioned for the others to follow as he slammed into the door, rifle ready.

What they were met with was unexpected - vampires, seemingly, but barely into their stages of turning. Several were emaciated and others looked as though they'd been cut open or mashed together with other monsters. One sat on all fours, hissing and spitting. Another held what looked to be shrapnel, and Sniper assumed that was what cut him. He didn't get a chance to study the others - they were hungry and smelled fresh blood. 

Sniper slammed the butt of his rifle against one's head, kicking it away. It got back up and hissed, looking ready to spring forward. Just as it got onto its haunches, a syringe slammed into its neck. Sniper breathed a sigh of relief and nodded at Medic, reaching instead for his shiv. 

Wood was the go-to killer for Sniper. His shiv was one of his favorite weapons because of it - a huge wooden knife to stab at from a distance was useful when dealing with such feral vampires. He lunged and shoved the weapon through the vampire's chest, waiting for it to dissolve into ash. 

Instead, it hissed and grabbed at the blade, pulling it from its chest. Sniper stood in shock as Medic readied another shot. Nearby, Heavy had two monsters in chokeholds and Demo had some smaller bombs lighting up. With that sort of noise, Sniper knew they'd attract all kinds of attention. He reached into his pocket to hit his phone's call button, not bothering to pull it up. Spy would know. 

 

As soon as Spy heard his phone go off, Scout was ready at the wheel of the van. Spy didn't even answer his call - he saw Sniper's number and knew. They sped forward, making very good time with Scout's driving. They had been far enough away that the lights and sounds of the van couldn't be detected from inside the hospital, and when they parked they were close enough that the mercenaries could pile out of the building and into the van in moments. 

Scout didn't bother thinking as he grabbed his bat and took off - Spy tailed him, revolver ready. It was surprising to Spy that they didn't encounter anything on their trek through the halls. He could hear where the others were, though, and urged Scout to hurry. 

When they got into the room they were met with a disgusting sight - four mercenaries beating grotesque vampire… things into submission. Sniper had begun slicing into some of them, trying to incapacitate whatever he could. 

Upon seeing this, Scout jumped in and swung his bat, knocking a feral vampire across the skull. Spy followed suit and shot round after round into different bodies. 

By the time the monsters were down, they'd all had the time to study some of the features closer. They were vampires, obviously - recently turned, by the looks of them. Yet they weren’t turning to ash from wood to the heart or anything of the like, so each one had been incapacitated, knocked unconscious.

Sniper prodded one with his foot, studying its teeth.

“If my memory serves,” Spy said, suddenly behind him, “Those teeth are closer to that of a werewolf than a vampire.”

“Yeah? I haven’t hunted those.” Sniper stood up straight, glancing around the room. Demoman and Heavy were discussing something over one of the fallen vampires, and Medic was crouched with several syringes, pulling blood from their bodies.

Sniper was going to ask the doctor something when the door behind them creaked open.

 

“Oh, what a mess you’ve all made.” 

Sniper, with his gaze fixed on Medic, watched the doctor tense up at the sound of the voice behind them. Slowly, each of the mercenaries turned to see a man - a vampire - standing in the doorway. Sniper’s mind immediately recognized that this man was very, very similar to the doctor. His voice, his accent, his face….

Medic seemed to realize this as well, taking a sharp breath as he met the man’s gaze.

There was a long moment of tense silence, nobody in the room moving as the two vampires stared each other down. 

“Oh, Moritz.” The new vampire’s voice was quiet, almost gentle in the way he addressed Medic. “It’s been far too long.”

“Milo?” Medic sounded close to tears - Sniper didn’t like it. He gripped his rifle in his hands, steadying his stance. “You were  _ dead _ . Weren’t you?”

“Obviously not.” The vampire - Milo - stepped forward, closer to the doctor. Sniper tensed, finger on the trigger, ready to swing his gun up to shoot. 

Medic didn’t make any advance. He stood in place, syringes tucked safely into his coat. His entire body read discomfort, disbelief. Sniper was tempted to step closer, but he didn’t know what the vampire might do. He might spring an attack due to that action, and he didn’t want any chance that the doctor might get hurt.

So he waited, watching.

“Moritz,” Milo said, and Sniper realized that was the doctor’s first name. What a way to learn that. “You know I’ve missed you. Why don’t you come along and we can catch up? You could work for me.”

The room was silent, save for the breathing of the fallen monsters and the team around them. Medic seemed to think the offer over for quite some time, looking between Milo and Sniper and Heavy with a troubled expression. 

Obviously this man was someone close to the doctor. If Sniper had to guess, he’d think they were brothers, given the similarity of their faces. But he couldn’t be sure - he didn’t know how vampires worked.

“I…” Medic was conflicted. Sniper stared at him, desperation behind his shades. He hoped his body language communicated that, holding his rifle in tense fingers, brows knitted together.

“I don’t think so,” Medic said, his gaze turning toward Sniper. “I have a job. I’m needed.”

“Not last I heard,” Milo retorted, tilting his head to the side. He flashed his teeth as he did so. “Last I heard, my baby brother had lost his licence. And I know why, Moritz.”

At that, the doctor seemed to flinch. Milo continued.

“A shame you couldn’t control yourself. You know, Rothenburg still holds legend of the doctor who ripped his patients’ throats out with his teeth--”

“Stop,” Medic’s voice was quiet. “Just stop. We’ll leave.”

“You may leave as you wish - I won’t harm you. Just know my offer will stand for you, _Brüderlein_.”

Milo took a step backward, and Sniper raised his rifle to aim. Medic caught his eyes and gave him a desperate look -  _ please don’t kill him.  _ Slowly, Sniper lowered his gun, his mouth turned into a scowl. He wanted to protect the doctor, and this guy seemed to be nothing but a danger to him. But if it kept the doctor happy, he wouldn’t go through with it. He’d wait. He just hoped that it wasn’t the wrong decision.

 

Leaving the hospital was a mess. Each mercenary clambered into the places in their vehicles, some more happy than others. Scout was a ball of energy, bragging about his heroics as Spy shook his head and ushered him into the camper. Heavy seemed solemn and Demoman read the situation, keeping quiet. Usually he would offer to bring everyone to the bar after a job, but…

That probably wasn’t the best idea. Especially not for Medic.

Medic was the worst of the group - Heavy had pulled him aside to talk for several moments, concerned. Sniper had sat in the driver’s seat of his van, watching the two. They were obviously very good friends and Sniper actually found himself glad that Medic had someone to lean on like that.

Even if he wanted to be his support.

Shaking his head, he called Medic over into the passenger seat and started his van, heading for Teufort once more.

They ended up dropping Spy and Scout off in the same area. Spy had said he would help the younger man find his way home, and Scout had groaned and complained about how he didn’t need Spy acting like his mother. Medic had found that rather amusing, suppressing a laugh as the two left.

Then they were headed toward Medic’s home.

“I’m sorry,” Medic said, just barely audible over the soft radio. Sniper glanced at him as he drove, raising a brow.

“What? What for, mate?” 

“For not telling you. I’m sure you’ve got an idea of what I mean.”

Sniper was silent for several moments before he nodded, his voice quiet.

“Yeah. I do. But you don’t have to apologize, you know.”

The rest of the ride was spent in relative silence - not even the sound of Frank Sinatra coming onto the radio could bring sniper from his solemn state.

 

When they arrived at Medic’s home, the doctor sat silent for some time before asking Sniper to come with him. The sharpshooter was reluctant, nervous about what the doctor was going to say to him, but he followed anyway. He tailed after Medic as he unlocked his door and walked through his home, telling Sniper to wait in the living room.

And Sniper did, standing in the room decorated by reds and browns and books that looked older than his parents. When Medic returned, he looked haggard. Perhaps that’s how he’d looked even before, but Sniper had been too focused on the rest of the situation to really take in the doctor’s appearance. Now, when he looked him over, he noticed that he was rumpled and he looked distraught.

Still, even with the expression behind his eyes, Medic didn’t seem opposed to stepping in closer to the Australian. Quietly, he opened his mouth and spoke.

“Thank you,” Medic said, tugging Sniper in for a hug. Unexpected, but not unwelcome; Sniper reciprocated by putting his arms around the doctor in return, letting the other man rest against him. 

Several moments passed in silence, the press of Medic's arms around Sniper feeling, somehow, unreal yet all too real. 

“It's nothing, doc. You'd do the same for me, yeah?” Not that Sniper had any possibly vampiric siblings out there, but the sentiment still stood. Medic nodded slowly, his forehead dropped against Sniper's shoulder.

“I mean this. Thank you for not killing him.” Medic obviously wanted to change his brother - whether that would happen was up to chance, and Sniper was more than just slightly nervous about waiting to see what happened. 

“Yeah,” was all he could come up with in response. “You alright though? Not hurt or nothing?”

“I'm fine, yes. Thank you, my friend.” Medic slowly pulled back to look Sniper in the eyes, a smile crossing his face. His scarf was pulled halfway down but he didn't seem to care. After the situation earlier, he didn't feel like he had to hide anymore. 

Sniper seemed to enjoy this, seeing Medic's face fully. He gingerly tugged the scarf down further, his fingertips brushing the doctor's skin in the process. Something in his expression shifted, his chest suddenly feeling a little too small for his pounding heart. He had an opportunity and Medic wasn't pushing him away as he leaned in.

In fact the doctor tilted his head upward, lips parted just slightly. It seemed to take forever to Sniper, but he pressed their lips together in a hesitant kiss. There was a moment of doubt for the Australian where he thought he read the situation wrong, where he didn't feel Medic press against him. But once that sliver of time passed, the doctor's arms tightened around his middle and he returned his kiss.

They were both eager, seemingly. Sniper didn't push but he let their lips move together, eventually giving in and parting Medic's lips with his own. The doctor gave him the control, moving along with him as their hands gripped each other's shirts. A gentle slide of tongues deepened the kiss, Medic welcoming Sniper's affections with enthusiasm. 

They moved together for what felt like forever - time halted as Sniper took in every detail he could of the kiss. The way the doctor smelled and the feeling of his skin against his own, the way hands tightened and loosened on his sides. Medic's hands left their place to adjust, Medic pulling himself from the kiss to drop his arms over the Sniper's shoulders. He resumed his motions after that, welcoming the warm kisses. 

Medic's fingers dug into Sniper's shoulder. The Australian noted every taste he got from Medic's mouth, every press of fingers against his back and shoulders pushing him on. He wasn't sure how far this was going - he was grateful for the kiss, deepening by the moment as their movements got slightly more excited. 

Sniper pushed the doctor gently toward the nearest wall to press him against. His leverage meant he could kiss the doctor better, tongue dipping into Medic's mouth further, playful nips left on his lips. 

Medic pressed against him, hands pulling him in closer, shivering when he realised just how close their bodies were. He almost began pushing things further, a half-hearted attempt at rolling his hips interrupted by the scrape of Sniper's tongue against his teeth.

He tasted copper and made a choked sound, shoving the Australian away from him as he covered his mouth. Sniper looked hurt and rejected, then realised what he'd done. He licked his lips, blood seeping slowly from his tongue. 

“Don't,” Medic said, lifting his hand when Sniper stepped forward. He breathed deep, steadying himself. He hadn't tasted fresh blood in so long, it was far too tempting to take more. But he steeled himself. 

“Please leave,” He said, voice soft. “Please. You- you smell like blood.”

And he did - it was all the doctor could smell from Sniper. 

The Australian looked concerned, but didn't push - he simply backed off, opening the door slowly. He looked at Medic for several long moments, resisting the urge to pull him back in to comfort him. 

“...Call me later, when you're okay,” he said, “...Sorry.”

When Sniper left, Medic breathed deeply and licked his lips - he should have just wiped his mouth - and regretted the action when he tasted Sniper's blood again. After a moment, he seemed to realise something. Medic touched his fingers to his lips.

Sniper's blood tasted disgusting. 


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I APOLOGIZE FOR TAKING SO LONG, BUT LIFE HAPPENED. My girlfriend and I went to a convention as Sniper and Medic and got cute pictures. It was nice.
> 
> Also, Sniper's name is the name I default to when roleplaying him. 
> 
> But let's be blunt, this chapter has what a lot of you have been waiting for.

“Why the hell would you let them _ live? _ ” 

Milo’s new boss emphasised his words with a fist to the wall, leaving a large crack. Milo knew his employer had a bit of a temper, but  _ really _ ? Property damage? Sure, the walls of the old hospital were already fairly beaten up, but there was no need to further their damage. 

“My brother…” He started, interrupted by another slam. Drywall fell to the ground in a soft flutter.

“I don't give a rat's ass if one of them was your brother!”

“Michael, listen--”

“Don't you call me that! I want those hunters dead, you understand?”

“I understand. But  _ Michael, _ ” Milo was pushing it, emphasising his boss’s name, watching his lip curl into a scowl, “Their doctor is my brother. A vampire. I turned him-- I can control him if you give me the time.”

“And you think that would be useful?”

“ _Ja_! Imagine a second set of hands here to help me make everything I need… Imagine how much faster we would get things done.” Milo slowly stepped over to his boss, steepling his fingers in front of his chest. “You could have an army within months, Michael.”

Several moments passed where Michael seemed to be thinking the idea over - he looked from Milo to his hands, then sighed. 

“One month, doc. If you can't get him by then, I want him dead.”

Milo's eyes darkened. 

“I understand.”

 

 

Sniper waited beside his phone the day after his encounter with Medic. While on one hand he was thrilled about the kiss, he was scared he'd ruined things between them.

So when his phone rang and Medic's voice was on the other end, he felt relief flow through him. Until he understood what the doctor had frantically said:

“Sniper, I need your blood.”

Sniper made a soft noise, confused. Medic continued, obviously flustered.

“No, no, that was… I apologize. Your blood is  _ wretched _ , Sniper. I need to know what's in it.”

The Australian wasn't sure if he should feel offended at that.  His blood was… gross? Was that a jab at his hygiene? Sniper rubbed his jaw and sighed into the phone, his voice inquisitive. 

“What do you mean?”

He heard Medic shuffling around on the other end, obviously working on something.

“It's disgusting. I never want your blood in my mouth ever again.” There was a click on Medic's end - it sounded like the door to his lab. “So I want to figure why your blood is so…. Repulsive.”

“You think that's important?”

“Yes, Sniper. Blood isn't wine - it shouldn't differ so much to where a vampire won't even drink it!”

“But plenty of those angry little buggers took good bites on me that one time, yeah?”

“They were feral. They take what they can get. Look, Sniper, I feel like this is important. Will you help me?”

Sniper was quiet for a few long moments, listening to the doctor fiddle with his equipment. He weighed the pros and cons in his head - maybe there was something wrong with his blood and it'd help find a cure. If not, at least they tried, right?

With a sigh, Sniper leaned forward and ran his hand over his face.

“Alright. Just be careful, yeah? Don't want you getting hungry when you're working on it.”

“Trust me, I won't. Danke, Sniper. Really.” He heard Medic drop something, probably distracted at the thought of such an opportunity. The doctor swore under his breath and Sniper couldn't help the laugh from his mouth. 

Medic made a frustrated noise on the other end, then cleared his throat. 

“Also, Sniper. Spy told me to go to the bar tonight. Told me to tell you to come, too.” Silence, then the sound of tools being set down. “Would you pick me up at sunset? I… I want to talk to you. Properly.”

Sniper felt his chest tighten. 

“Yeah-- yeah, I'll be there. Ain't anything bad you're gonna tell me, right?”

“No, no. At least, I don't think so.”

That should have lifted the feeling from Sniper's chest. It didn't. 

 

 

Sniper finally gave in and called his parents that day - he found the payphone he regularly used and sighed as he waited for them to pick up, hand over his eyes.

When his mother picked up he sighed, grateful that it was her. 

For a moment. 

“Robin Joseph Mundy!” Her voice was raised as tough as she could make herself sound - yet still, she wasn't very intimidating. Sniper could just imagine her, short and bristling, holding the phone with a frown. She never really was that scary - more of a gentle, soft spoken woman who could barely raise her voice to yell. 

“You haven't called us for a month, love! Are you alright?” And anger made way to concern, motherly instinct kicking in. 

Robin smiled, but his voice was anything but cheerful. 

“Yeah, yeah. I'm alright, promise. Just have a lot going on.”

“You aren't going to get yourself hurt, are you?” Sniper could almost see the expression on her face - she had a tendency to become close to tears when her son got into dangerous situations. 

“No, mum. I'll be fine. Look, I just called to tell you I'm alright, but I've gotta get going. Got places to be.”

“Please be safe, love. Your father and I are so worried about you.”

“I'll be safe. I love you, Mum. Tell Dad I love him, too, alright?” He rarely said those words with the sincerity he used just then, and he knew his mother could tell he had things on his mind. But she didn't push.

“I'll tell him. I love you, my little bird.”

When he hung up, Sniper found his face flushed. His mum never called him that anymore - he felt terrible for making her worry so much. But he had other things to do - he had supplies to replace and he had to prepare himself to meet with Medic... A tough enough task on its own.

 

 

Medic worked on and off the rest of the day, taking breaks to sleep. He wouldn't be at his best tonight, that was for sure - but he had ideas and they had to be tested, even before he got the samples of Sniper's blood. 

He was hoping to make something that would be compatible with the tool Engineer had mentioned he wanted to create. A gun of sorts, but not like what the other mercenaries used, no. A large, cannon-like tube that would be able to administer large doses of whatever medicine the doctor put into it. Hopefully, a cure. 

That was looking closer and closer with each day - if he could just get some more testing done…

 

 

By the time sunset rolled around, he had cleaned up the bits and pieces of what he'd been working on. Spare parts to his tools were stored neatly away and he wasn't taking his time because he was nervous about talking to Sniper, no. 

Alright, perhaps that's why he was stalling. But he couldn't help it - he thought of the other man and something in him fluttered. He'd been aching for companionship for so long - sure, Misha was a good friend, but Medic wanted something more, someone to lean on and lay with him when he needed the comfort of a warm body next to his. 

And Sniper seemed to be the best candidate for that. But he had to talk to him, tell him his boundaries - that is, if the Sniper wanted such things from him. Perhaps the Australian wanted something physical. Medic wasn't sure he could deal with that - he wanted support. He wanted someone to hold him when the inevitable disputes with Milo happened. He needed someone to take his mind off of his brother's actions. 

He needed a lover. Badly. 

Too bad those thoughts couldn’t stall Sniper himself from arriving at Medic’s home. He heard the sound of the camper pulling up and hurriedly put the rest of his equipment away, only to grab a few empty syringes to stick in his coat before heading upstairs.

Medic had the door open before Sniper was even out of his van, the doctor’s face barely peeking out from behind the wooden door. Such behavior pulled a smile from Sniper, which Medic was rather grateful for. He pulled the door open further, ushering Sniper inside, away from the just-setting sun outside. Even the softest of the rays made Medic feel weak, and he didn’t want to have to deal with that at the current moment. Not when he had things to talk about.

He noticed, of course, the Sniper’s tense posture as the Australian stepped inside. Leading him into the main living room, Medic attempted to be as open and warm as possible for him - but the poor man seemed down about something. Perhaps he was worried that the Medic was going to tell him something terrible? That seemed plausible. 

Gently, Medic rested a hand on Sniper’s shoulder as he stepped near him.

“Sniper?” He said, stirring the other man out of his thoughts. “Do you want any tea? Coffee?”

The Sniper shook his head in response, looking up at Medic before looking back down. Medic decided that he really didn't need anything, himself, and let go of Sniper's shoulder as he sat down. His voice was gentle as he spoke. 

“Whatever terrible thing you think I'm going to tell you, it's not going to happen.” 

Sniper met his eyes for a moment.

“You ain't… upset? About…”

“No, not one bit. I enjoyed it. Of course, aside from… well, you know.”

Slowly, Sniper nodded. The words seemed to calm him, which was good. Medic really didn't want to screw this up. 

“There are, however, a few things I wanted to… address. About this.”

He saw the way that Sniper attempted to hide his expression - he should have worded that differently. But no matter. 

“I get that you're interested in me. And I want nothing more than to drop everything and kiss you again, minus the teeth.” At Sniper's soft smile, he felt relief in his chest. “But you need to remember that I'm… not human anymore. I've been around for a little over five hundred years. I could be around for another five hundred.”

“Are you worried about… I dunno, outliving me?”

“Somewhat.” Medic shifted, hands folding into his lap. “Of course, you know I wouldn’t forget you, even if I did outlive you - you’ve been the most helpful person in my life. You’ve pushed my research further than you know. That would be hard to forget.”

He smiled, small fangs barely peeking from behind his lips. One dared to slip over his bottom lip, giving him an almost comical appearance. Medic continued.

“Upholding something between us… It would be difficult, wouldn’t it?  Would you…  Would you be willing to face it with me?”

There was a long moment of silence between the two as Sniper stared at the doctor, eyes wide and mouth threatening to drop open. But he clenched his jaw and nodded slowly.

“It’s funny. I hadn’t ever imagined myself… Wanting a vampire.” Medic seemed to flinch at the word, but Sniper kept speaking. “But here you come into my life, handsome face and one of the smartest people I’ve met - no way I could’ve met you and not fallen for you, doc.”

He avoided eye contact after that, cheeks flushing. Medic breathed a sigh of relief, reaching over to set his hand on Sniper’s, fingers twitching to grasp his hand fully. 

“There are, of course… Things we’ll need to discuss,” Medic said, bringing himself closer. “I haven’t dared to get close to anyone in… Nearly seventy years. We’ll have to be careful.” Medic’s voice was stern.

“Yeah?”

“Don’t push things if I get a little out of sorts. Don’t make me bite you.”

“Figured that much. No biting.” Sniper smiled - Medic couldn’t help his smile in return.

“Don’t hurt my brother.”

“But what if he--”

“Don’t hurt him.” Medic’s voice turned pleading. Sniper had to nod in response, averting his gaze.

“Alright, alright. I won’t. Anything else I need to know before I can start kissing you?”

“I’ll tell you if I think of anything else.” Slowly, Medic pulled himself closer to Sniper, far enough that he was straddling him. His hands were on Sniper’s shoulders to hold himself steady as he leaned in, kissing the Australian’s forehead. Sniper closed his eyes, arms wrapping around the doctor, resting around his hips. 

Medic could tell that he was hesitant to do anything more than hold him - and while he was grateful for that, he was also, admittedly, impatient. Seventy years of nothing but his own thoughts and hands made him desperate for any sort of affection - be it gentle kisses or something more, Medic wanted anything he could get from Sniper.

Because he trusted him.

So he put his hands under the marksman’s chin, urging him to tilt his head upward to look at him. They shared a smile - something far more tender than would be expected between men who’d known each other only a few months, but given their situation and experiences, understandably so. Medic leaned down, craning his neck to kiss Sniper, fingers curling against his jaw.

And Sniper reciprocated, eagerly returning the kiss and pressing his hands against the doctor’s back. At first, their lips brushed dryly against each other. Sniper’s tongue darted out to wet their lips and Medic reacted pleasantly, relaxing his shoulders and revelling in the feeling of Sniper’s chapped lips, the texture so different from his own.

He’d never enjoyed the wet sound of kisses so much - perhaps because he’d never trusted someone as he trusted the Sniper. It was a wonderful feeling to give in to, the slide of their lips together and the gentle brush of Sniper’s tongue meeting his bottom lip, encouraging him to press in further. When Sniper sucked on his lip and tightened his arms, Medic made a soft sound of encouragement.

Medic had missed this. The feeling of arms around him and a tongue playfully pressing against his own, his lips bruising with each suck and nip. This time, he had more control - Sniper allowed his tongue entrance to his mouth and Medic took it, deepening their kiss and squeezing Sniper’s shoulders, finding every way to make the other man melt in his arms.

When they finally parted, their cheeks were flushed and the two of them were breathing heavily.  But that didn’t stop the Sniper from pressing several more gentle kisses to the doctor’s jawline, arching his back so he could reach from his chin to his ear. Medic chuckled, shifting so Sniper had better access.

Which resulted in him brushing the front of Sniper’s pants - the other man flinched slightly, pausing in his kisses. Medic contemplated things for a moment. He hadn’t had any sort of attention from another man in so, so long, and Sniper was most definitely attracted to him and, if his facial expression was any indication, willing to go as far as the doctor wanted him to.

Medic swallowed past a lump in his throat and purposely shifted, recalling his similar action from the other day. He heard Sniper’s breath hitch as he moved, his hips rolling teasingly. He did this a few more times, watching the Australian under him, the way his lips parted and his eyes closed, brows knitting together.

Smiling, Medic pushed against Sniper’s shoulders so he was flush against the back of the couch, leaning in so he could kiss along the marksman’s jaw in return. Still, he rocked his hips against Sniper, feeling the other man tentatively put his hands on his lower back. There was a hesitance to Sniper’s actions as he pushed Medic’s hips closer to his own, his eyes half-lidded as he stared up at him.

“...You alright, doc?” Sniper said, his voice low and unintentionally rough. Medic shivered.

“ _Ja, ja._ If you don’t mind,” He said, trailing a finger along Sniper’s cheek, “You can call me Moritz.”

He watched Sniper think this over, pleased when he smiled and nodded.

“Alright.” Sniper pressed a kiss to Medic - Moritz’s - collarbone, still covered by his clothing. “Moritz.”

He repeated the doctor’s name several more times as he pressed kisses to his collar and chest, only stopping when Medic began undoing the buttons on his front, urging him to do the same. Sniper followed through, lifting his shirt and undershirt over his head as the doctor slipped from his own, left in  their pants. 

Medic leaned forward, pressing their chests together. The contact of skin on skin made Sniper shiver and Medic twitch slightly in response. It had been so, so long since he’d felt this, and Sniper was comfortably warm. He felt kisses against his shoulder, Sniper's tongue teasing his skin. 

He rolled his hips again, pushing himself closer into that warmth and the kisses along his shoulder and neck. Sniper smiled, pausing in his kisses to push his nose against Medic’s neck, simply breathing and taking in the moment as the doctor stilled on top of him. There was a comfort there that he’d never expected to find, especially not in the arms of a vampire. Slowly, his eyes opened and he looked up at Medic, meeting his gaze as the doctor tilted his head to smile at him.

There was a long moment where they just breathed, taking in the moment. Sniper felt his heart thud against his chest as he realised that he was definitely going to take this further than he’d expected. That morning, he was worried that Medic still wanted to associate with him. Now he was here, hands on the doctor’s hips, urging him further and further.

Medic shifted, pulling himself from Sniper and onto his knees in a fluid movement. Hands crept up onto Sniper’s thighs and the Australian shivered, mouth dropping open as he watched Medic between his legs. 

“I won’t bite,” Medic said, his voice low. Sniper could only nod, eyes wide, as the doctor’s hands found the button of his pants. Once that clasp was released, he felt Medic’s fingers tease along his hardening cock and he bit his lip. His fingers dipped into his pants and Medic was rather pleased to find that Sniper seemed to prefer only a single layer of clothing - underwear was definitely missing here. 

Fingers trailing lightly along Sniper's hips, Medic tugged his pants down just far enough that he could reach the skin along his pelvic bone with his mouth. Sniper made a soft noise in response to the attention, and Medic couldn't help feeling proud of himself. Seventy years since his last partner and thankfully, he'd remembered what to do. He mouthed along his skin, avoiding the Australian’s cock as he did so. Kisses to each side made him sigh, hips moving involuntarily. 

Finally, he set his lips to work on his partner's cock, his hand wrapping around the base as he pressed wet kisses up the side. He switched quickly to tonguing his length, heart beating faster as he made sure things were slick. Once he was satisfied with that, Medic adjusted so he could take Sniper's fully erect cock into his mouth, flattening his tongue and listening to the sounds above him. 

Sniper practically whimpered at the feeling - it was so much better than he could have come up with in his mind. Medic's mouth was hot and wet and when he sucked, Sniper put a hand over his mouth to cover his groan. His hips jerked and Medic pulled back slightly, setting his free hand on Sniper's hip to hold him in place as he worked. 

Medic worked him slowly. On every bob upward he would give a soft suck, and every bob down resulted in Sniper's cock disappearing further into his mouth. 

Thankfully, he was considerate of his teeth - not once did Sniper feel a sharp scrape against him. He had the feeling he wouldn't have minded, though. 

Resting a hand on Medic's head, Sniper watched the doctor take him. He panted with every movement, fingers curling into his hair. He wasn't going to last long - not after so long without a partner. He mumbled soft encouragement, resisting the urge to shut his eyes. 

A tightening feeling was finding its way into his gut, forcing sharper gasps from his mouth. Just when he thought he couldn't take much more, when he was going to warn the doctor to pull off, he felt the silky texture of Medic’s throat. That pulled a loud moan from him, eyes shutting as he felt his hips jerk, the doctor's hand instead pulling him closer. 

Without thinking, his grip on Medic's hair tightened and he thrust his hips, managing three sharp jerks of his hips before he felt his orgasm take him. He held Medic's hair as he emptied himself down his throat, feeling the doctor swallow as best he could. Medic panted through his nose as Sniper held him in place, relieved when he was released. 

He took in gasps of air and looked up as Sniper fell back against the couch, boneless and spent. After catching his breath and wiping his mouth, Medic made his way onto Sniper's lap once more, mindful of how sensitive he would be after finishing. 

Sniper shifted, reaching between the doctor and himself to tuck himself back into his pants, smiling as he felt Medic rest his forehead against his shoulder. He placed a gentle kiss to his temple, getting comfortable once more. 

Finally, Sniper let his hands stray toward Medic's hips. When the doctor pushed against him, encouraging, he began undoing the button on the doctor's pants, ready to return the favor. Medic wrapped his arms over Sniper's shoulders, nudging against his neck with a content sigh as he felt fingers on him. 

At the angle he was sitting, Sniper's wrist was twisted awkwardly, but he made the best of it. He tugged Medic's cock from his underwear, feeling the wetness that had gathered at the slit, his thumb teasing. 

Medic made a pleased sound as Sniper toyed with him, eyes shut and hips rocking into his hand. More kisses were pressed to Medic's hair as Sniper adjusted his hand. He needed something slicker if he was going to do this - Medic seemed too comfortable to move, though. 

So he raised his hand to his mouth and slicked his fingers with his own saliva, reaching back down and immediately going to work, feeling the heat of Medic's cock, heavy against his hand. He collected any precome from the slit, using it as more slick. His wrist ached slightly from the movement, but he didn't mind - not when he had Medic panting against his neck, clinging to his shoulders. 

Medic's hips jerked as Sniper worked him, unable to help himself as he tried to get more friction against him. His breath came as short gasps and soft moans, unable to hold in his sounds. Already, he felt close, the tightening in his gut warning him of his inevitable release. He wanted so badly to prolong the feeling of Sniper’s hand on him, of his breath against his ear as he was held close with one arm. And yet everything was too much and he was so close so quickly…

A moan escaped his mouth and he gripped Sniper’s shoulders, digging his nails in as his orgasm took him. It was more intense than it probably should have been, leaving the doctor twitching as Sniper worked him through it, pumping him until he felt Medic go soft against him. It was only then that the sharpshooter let go, wiping his hand on his pantleg. He didn’t care about the mess, not at the moment. For now, Sniper was happy to nudge against a sated Medic, wrapping his arms around him.

Several moments passed, Medic almost falling asleep, before Sniper whispered against his hair.

“You alright?”

“ _Wunderbar_ ,”  Medic said, fumbling to find Sniper’s hand to clasp in his own. Squeezing his fingers weakly, Medic chuckled and relaxed fully against him. 

The Australian was a warm comfort under him, one arm loosely over the Medic’s back, the other up higher, brushing fingers through his sweat-damp, graying hair. Falling asleep right there sounded wonderful to Medic. They weren’t expected for another three hours, and he’d barely slept all day.

A kiss to the top of his head seemed to solidify that thought.

He felt Sniper shift, and nuzzled against his neck when he stilled. Both of Sniper’s hands pressed against Medic’s back, holding him close. Pressure against his back was warning enough as Sniper shifted one last time, pulling him close as he settled in comfortably against the couch, a throw pillow tucked under his head. How he could sleep with something so hard under his neck, Medic didn’t understand - but he wasn’t complaining. The angle Sniper was laying at simply meant he was more comfortable, himself.

Kissing Sniper’s jaw, Medic tucked himself against him and closed his eyes, content. 

 

 

“Make me a vampire.” A masked person stood in the doorway of Milo’s lab, their voice commanding. The elder vampire raised a brow, setting his tools aside.

“Who let you in here?” Ready to fight, he hovered his hand over the bonesaw conveniently located on the tray beside him.

“Michael did. He owes me - and I figured out what I want. Make me a damn vampire.” Their arms crossed against their chest and Milo rolled his eyes, putting his hands in the air. Michael would never have let anyone in without proper clearance, and if this person knew his boss’s name and face, it was obvious they had that.

“If he trusts you, then sure. What do I get out of this?”

Slowly, the masked figure undid the very piece of their suit obscuring their identity. Milo couldn’t help but gape at what he saw - scales, curling over an elderly woman’s neck and face, large burn marks seared over her scalp. Clawmarks dug in against her jaw and mouth, and as he studied her closer, he knew just what he was working with. And it excited him. She smiled, revealing fangs and sharp teeth more deadly than his own.

The next words she stated sealed the deal for him, a promise of a sample of a specimen he never thought he’d get to work with.

“...Dragon blood.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :3c
> 
> (If you want to see my Sniper roleplay blog, it's located at Bushmundy on Tumblr! Message me there and we can scream about bushmedicine and this fic and the ideas I have for it!)


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for taking forever   
> I really hope this is worth the wait--  
> I actually chopped this chapter's plan in half because I just really wanted to post something for you guys.  
> <3

When Sniper awoke, he was well aware that he was in Medic’s home. Stirred awake by the sound of his phone going off, Sniper managed to get a good, long look at the doctor.

It was only a few hours after their encounter, and he had his arm resting over the doctor’s back with Medic pulled up close, nose against his neck. Soft breath against his skin told him that Medic was still peacefully asleep, even through the sound of Sniper’s phone going off in the marksman’s pocket.

Huh. He always thought vampires had better hearing than normal humans.

Either way, Medic wasn’t getting up and Sniper had to see his phone, answer it before it stopped ringing…

He shifted and moved and tried his best not to rudely wake the doctor on top of him, smiling when he saw his face scrunch up in discomfort at being jostled. Medic nuzzled his way closer, frowning, and Sniper finally got his phone free and managed to look at the screen, squinting at the bright light.

Spy’s personal number came up as the caller and Sniper hissed under his breath before sliding his finger across the answer prompt, speaking in a whisper.

“Hey, Spook.”

“Bushman. I attempted to call the Medic’s landline, but he is not picking up. Did he inform you that you two are wanted at the bar tonight?”

“Yeah, yeah-- we’ll be over there in a bit, promise. He’s sleeping right now, let me wake him…”

“Sleeping?” The Spy’s voice was questioning, curious, perhaps concerned. “Is he alright?”

“He’s aces, don’t worry about it. Just uh, a little exhausted.” Sniper made a face at his own reply - the Medic sure was exhausted, alright. He just wouldn’t tell Spy why.

“Why is he exhausted? Late night experiments?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Sniper said, grateful that Spy inadvertently made a cover story for the two, “Got here and he was wobbling on his feet. Made him take a nap. Ah, I think he's waking up - we'll be over soon, Spook.”

Before Spy could question further, Sniper hung up and shut off the screen on his phone. Medic was, in fact, beginning to stir against him. The doctor's arms stretched, slow and long, before he finally opened his eyes.

Even in the dark, Sniper could see his eyes just well enough to recognize the bright blue of them. The doctor had such pretty eyes, easily compared to the clearest of skies or the waves off of a coastal beach and what was Sniper doing, comparing the man's eyes to such things? He didn't… he usually did not react in this manner to anyone.

Medic smiled at him, and the thoughts came back, smitten and amused. He wished he could knock them back. 

But he couldn't - he was in too deep with a man he'd known less than half a year, and he realised that as he reached to stroke his cheek with one finger. 

“Sleep alright?” He asked, his voice far gentler than he'd ever heard from himself. He couldn't stop the grin on his lips as Medic nodded, his arms coming to a comfortable rest over Sniper’s shoulders.

“I did. I wish we could sleep longer,” Medic said, sighing. “But we have to be somewhere, don't we?”

Sniper nodded slowly, helping the doctor to his feet. They adjusted their clothing and Sniper ran his fingers through Medic's hair, fixing it into place. It took them several minutes, but they made it back to Sniper's camper without getting tangled in each other, despite the obvious tug of their fingers locked together and the simple  _ want _ between them, to be curled up against each other's warmth.

When Sniper made it into the back of his camper, he managed to change with minimal difficulty - though Medic's eyes on him didn't go unnoticed. Their little encounter, it seemed, opened doors for the both them to be closer, to watch the other instead of avoiding eye contact and flushed cheeks. 

Sniper sucked in a breath before leaning toward the doctor, pressing the gentlest of kisses to his lips. 

“C’mon,” he said, and climbed out of the back of his camper, headed to the driver's side door. Medic smiled, feeling lighter than he had in years, and followed.

 

* * *

 

Spy stared at the phone for several moments before setting it aside. He looked around the bar, doing a quick headcount - it seemed the only people missing were the Sniper and the Medic. He wondered for a few moments just what could have been taking the two so long, ultimately figuring that Medic still needed help with his aim or some odd experiment, and he had in fact been experimenting far too late.

That was probably it. 

Taking his seat beside Pauling, Spy sighed heavily. With the Medic's secret out to the bushman, did that mean they should all come clean about themselves? How would the poor man react, learning he was the only human in a group of beings with power far superior to his own?

Perhaps he'd lash out. Perhaps he'd be in denial. Was he in denial about the Medic? Did the doctor have to bare his fangs at Sniper to convince him?

Spy shook his head. It didn't matter how Sniper reacted. What mattered was whether he was still willing to work as a team with the rest of the mercenaries after learning of their inhuman properties. 

He had faith in Sniper as far as his loyalty went - the man was always willing to stick his neck out for those be considered close. And the mercenaries  _ were _ close to Sniper. It seemed that way, at least. 

While he waited, he struck up conversation with Pauling, mentioning his concern for Sniper's knowledge of the mercenaries. She said something about it being a long time coming and how it just seemed right to tell him now, and that sealed it for Spy. He'd tell Sniper. 

Hopefully everyone else followed his lead. 

It would be nice to finally let the bushman know. They'd known each other for quite some time now, hunting in the same areas, pursuing similar clients. He almost considered Sniper a friend, if he could ever consider  _ anyone _ a friend. 

And he shouldn't have to hide his identity from a possible friend - his name, yes. He'd never tell anyone his name, just as the other mercenaries kept their names private. 

“Looks like we’re going to have a busy night ahead of us, right, Spy?” Pauling’s voice forced him from his thoughts. Spy looked over at the young woman slowly, a small, pained smile making its way across his face.

“Most likely. I fear that with the bushman’s knowledge of our docteur, we may all have to come clean.”

“It’s kind of like coming out of the closet. But for monsters.” Pauling laughed. “Not that any of us here are really monsters.”

As she spoke, Demoman began howling. Pyro began hissing back - playfully, from what Spy could tell.

“...Most of us aren’t, at least?”

The humorous tone of her voice caused the Spy to laugh. 

“I believe the term 'inhuman’ would be better, non?” 

“Yeah, probably.” Pauling had something of a grin on her face. “Will you tell them about Scout, though?”

Spy looked over at his son across the room, jokingly using what magic he'd awakened to play ‘keep-away’ with the bartender and a shotglass. Why the man didn't simply incinerate the young half-fairy was beyond him--

Perhaps it was because Scout's father was glaring in that direction. And an angry fairy was not to be trifled with. 

With a heavy sigh, Spy leaned forward onto the table in front of him.

“Perhaps. If it comes up, I…”

Pauling stopped him, putting a hand against his shoulder. Spy quieted, waiting now for the last two members of their group to arrive.

 

* * *

 

 

When Medic and Sniper made it to the bar and into the front door, the bar was quiet. Everyone had gathered to a collection of tables pushed together in the center of the room. Drinks and food were being passed around as though it was a family dinner for a holiday. 

A strange sight. 

Sniper and Medic were welcomed warmly by the rest of the mercenaries, ushered over to seats beside each other. Medic had Heavy to one side and Sniper to the other. On Sniper's left, the Spy sat, smoking. 

Conversation was normal for them - talk of jobs and monsters, of the vampire attacks recently. Medic didn't speak much - he sat and ate, happy to have something in his stomach for what he knew was coming.

Just as he reached for a piece of bread, Sniper grabbed his hand gently. 

“Doc, you know that's…” he motioned at the bread. Medic looked it over, nodding.

“Ja, I am fully aware that it's garlic, Sniper.”

“Won't it…. You know?” He made a face. Medic laughed.

“No, no. That was a myth made hundreds of years ago - don't look at me like that, they all know.” Medic smiled, innocent. “Look, Sniper, vampires made a myth that garlic would kill them. Then they'd proceed to eat it with no ill effects and, well, cover up their… condition.”

Sniper took a few moments to process this information, thinking back to the bundles of garlic on his belt, in his camper…

“That's real bloody smart… So I don't have to smell like the stuff all day.” 

He looked around the tables, seeing the mercenaries and their reactions - nobody seemed surprised by this information, nor were they concerned about the fact that Medic was a vampire. Perhaps news spread between them already.

He was going to ask - he really should have, but he was stopped by Spy. 

“Bushman. There's quite a lot we have to discuss tonight.” Sniper watched as Spy poured himself a drink from the bottle on the table. “I suggest you prepare yourself for a shock.”

Confused, Sniper leaned back in his seat and looked around the table. The rest of the mercenaries had their eyes trained on him. It was starting to feel a little stifling. 

“The way you're all looking at me, it kinda feels like you're gonna tell me you're all vampires.”

Spy narrowed his eyes, taking a slow sip.

“Close, Sniper.”

Sniper was stunned into silence as the mercenaries began to show their true colors - the first was Spy, content to allow his wings, dragonfly-like and glittering red, flit outward from his back. Across from him, Demoman let his own barrier fall, revealing a much furrier exterior. 

The Heavy, beside Medic, did not go as far as Demoman - instead, his arms bulked up, claws and fur emerging from smooth flesh. 

Engineer didn't seem to change much, as well as the Soldier. Engineer looked, perhaps, a bit rougher around the edges. Soldier was glowing. Sniper rested his head in his hands.

“Why'd you never tell me?” He said, meekly. Spy rolled his eyes.

“We don't tell many humans about this, Sniper. In fact, most of Teufort is like us--”

“What?”

“--and the mayor as well, along with his assistants, the rest of the town council, most of the people who own businesses--”

“The bartender? Is he a monster?”

“The term nonhuman is more accepted, and yes, he's a wizard.”

“Crikey. I thought doc being a vampire was out there. Now I'm finding out you're a-- a bug?”

“A fairy, Sniper.” Spy set his drink aside, lighting another cigarette. The smoke curled slowly toward the ceiling, and Spy's eyes followed the trail. “I do not take pride in my heritage, but I put it to good use.”

“Shit, mate.” Sniper leaned back. “Shit.”

“He's a fairy alright,” Scout piped in, laughing. Spy glared over at the young half-fairy, tempted to say something right there - but he left it alone, scowling.

“Yeah?” Sniper said, “But what're you, kid? A gremlin?”

“Hey! Nah, I'm like, definitely some sort of cool wizard. Check this shit out,” Scout raised a hand, causing his glass to levitate. Spy rolled his eyes.

“You better watch how you use your power, boy. You don't know the extent of it.”

At Scout's insulted sound, Sniper began tuning the two out. An argument was the last thing he wanted to listen to. Instead, he focused on the select few who hadn't showed themselves. 

“Well, Truckie? How about you and that kid?” Sniper glanced at Pyro, who had been focused on building something out of napkins and glasses. They perked up, quickly looking to Engineer. 

“Well, Pyro here will let you know what they are in their own time. As for me, though?” Engineer leaned over the table. “I could be any number of things. Most people just think of me as something like… A golem.”

At that, Engineer turned his hand to stone in demonstration. At Sniper's face turning pale, he laughed.

“Before you ask, it doesn't hurt.”

That was going to be Sniper's next question. He nodded slowly, looking to Soldier. The other American was occupied with using what looked to be magic on a bottle. It would shake every few moments before going still once more, a disappointed sound coming from Soldier. 

Engineer spoke for him. 

“He's a wizard. Would be a better one, but his old mentor kicked him out.”

“Hey!”

“Only telling the truth.”

Sniper got a chuckle out of that, at least. Finally, Pauling spoke up at the end of the table.

“Look, now that we have this out of the way - Soldier, please stop trying to move that toward me. Anyway, we have this out of the way. That means--”

“What're you, though?” Sniper cut in. The glare he received didn't do much to his unabashed curiosity. Pauling sighed heavily, running a hand through her fringe. 

“I… Look, I'll tell you later. Please, let me talk?” At the quiet nod she received, she continued. “That means you can all start working twice as hard against these vampires. Since you're all now aware of each other, feel free to use whatever abilities you have toward finding, killing, or capturing them. Alongside that, I think we have some other things to talk about. Engie?”

Engineer nodded.

“Yeah, yeah, I've been working with the doc the past few weeks, and… we've come up with something that might help. See, there's this serum we can use, it's real basic but it does something rather than nothing. We gotta tweak it, but so far, it seems stable enough to use on humans who've just been bitten. Kind of disables the vampire toxin, you see?”

The mercenaries nodded along to Engineer's words. 

“Now, we've put it in a prototype of the gun we wanna use, but it's still real buggy. Doc might take it out on the next job we go on, and if it screws up, you all gotta be there to watch his back.”

The group looked toward Medic, who simply smiled, confident in himself. 

Sniper couldn't help his own smile, looking at  _ his _ doctor, so pleased with himself. It would take him a while to come to terms with everything that was said, but he felt alright with the way Medic was smiling. 

 

* * *

 

“So this brother of yours,” Michael said, pausing in the motion of cleaning his gun, “He some mad scientist like you, too?”

Milo tilted his nose up, setting aside the bloody tools his hands. 

“He was. Given the opportunity, I feel I could bring that out in him once again. He was chased out of Germany for attacking his patients and using their organs for experiments.”

“So,  _ just _ like you.” 

“I suppose. If you see me that way. I feel as though I am much more _coercive_ with my patients.”

“Like with Bea? You got her to sit still real fast, and nobody's ever gotten her to do that before. You know she's been the one I go to for torture methods, yeah?” Michael set his guns aside properly, looking closer at Milo. The elder vampire did not seem to react, save for the quick glance Michael's way. 

“That was part coercion, part drugs.” 

“You drugged a  _ dragon _ ?”

“How else was I supposed to operate on her?” The words left Milo's lips so nonchalantly, it was as though drugging a dragon was an everyday occurrence. Perhaps, at one point, it was. Michael couldn't be sure. Milo didn't open up to him or explain much of where he came from - he just knew that Milo was at least two hundred years older than him. 

Which meant he had a lot to learn from the older vampire. If he could get him to talk more. 

“How many other dragons have you operated on, doc?” 

“None. This is the opportunity of a lifetime… And I’m grateful,” Milo said, his lips twitching upward into a smile. “Without meeting you, I’d never have had the opportunity to get a sample of dragon blood. Do you know how far this will push my research?”

Michael blinked, shocked into silence that Milo was… Thanking him. From the beginning of their collaboration, the elder had been nothing but abrasive toward him. Most of their interaction had been rushed, serious - to hear Milo so sincere was a breath of fresh air for Michael.

“Glad I could help. Nice to have you working around here, too, doc. You’ve been real good about getting my men to toughen up. I don’t think I’ve heard Greg whine about being hungry for some time now.”

“Yes, well, I had enough of his whining. I needed to shut him up. I gave him a few pointers while he was on the operating table.”

“He was awake?”

“Yes, why wouldn’t he have been?” Milo grinned, now, settling himself so he was leaning toward Michael. “How else would I know whether I’m doing alright on my operation?”

“Let him wake up afterward?”

“Pah! Who’s the doctor here, Michael? I think I know what I’m doing.” Milo stood, patting the heavier vampire on the shoulder, his fingers lingering. “If you’d like, I could do some work on you. Less hunting for survival, more hunting for fun, ja?” 

“That… Sounds good, but I don’t think I want to be awake for it.” Michael stared at Milo’s hand, then met his gaze. The way Milo was staring at him, he felt his stomach turn. Out of apprehension or something else, he couldn’t tell. 

“Please. I’ll make sure you’re fine.” Hand lifting from Michael’s shoulder, Milo grazed the younger vampire’s cheek with his index finger. “Don’t you trust your doctor?”

There was a few moments’ pause as Michael locked eyes with Milo.

“...What’s your plan, doc?”

 


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> it is 5 am and i am exhausted, good night (morning?)

 

 

 

 

“So… that was much more eventful than expected,” Sniper said. His hands were on the wheel and his eyes were on the road, but he couldn't help the glance at Medic every now and again. The doctor sighed.

“Much more. But I'm glad everything is in the open now.” Medic kept his eyes on the road until he couldn't help but stare at Sniper, concern written across his face.

“You're fine with the fact that you're working with… Well, nonhumans?”

“Yeah. I suppose. Everyone's great at their jobs, so I don't really have a problem with any of them. If anything, I should have realized. Demo always smells like wet dog.”

“I never noticed.” Medic was smiling as Sniper took a second to glance at him again.

“You never-- You're pulling my leg, doc.”

“I am.” Medic unbuckled himself as they pulled into the drive of his home. “Do you want to come in again?”

Sniper raised a brow.

“I gotta get some sleep, do-- _Moritz_. I'm only nocturnal when I'm on the job.”

“You can sleep here. Rather than in your van.” The doctor looked hopeful.

“I mean…” A bed did sound nice. Sniper sighed, turning off the camper and unbuckling. “Alright. What about you, though?”

“I'll sleep through the night. I'll be in the basement all day, so don't worry.” Medic leaned over the console, meeting Sniper as he shifted, kissing his cheek. Sniper, not expecting the kiss, let out a surprised sound before leaning in closer to the doctor.  

“I might just keep you up,” Sniper laughed. Medic laughed in return, smiling at him. When they locked eyes, Sniper felt his heart skip. Medic's words made his face light up with excitement.

“I wouldn't mind that.”

  
  


 

“Tell me about when you changed.”

Milo had Michael sitting on one of his operating tables as he pulled his gloves on. He noticed the way the younger vampire tensed up - perhaps his past was something he didn't want to talk about?

There was a tense shift on Michael's end. Milo watched him like a hawk, taking in every movement.

“It was - well, a long time ago, doc.”

“I figured. How old are you now?” Milo pressed against Michael's chest, forcing him to lay down.

“Four-- four hundred? Maybe?”

“And how old were you when you turned?”

“Seventeen.”

“Younger than I was! It must have been difficult.” Milo shuffled with the medical equipment on the table next to him, turning with a blade in one hand. “Close your eyes. Keep talking, though - did you have trouble holding yourself back?”

Michael did as he was told, forcing himself to relax. Each breath he took, he let different parts of his body go slack.

“Yeah. I think I killed someone when the symptoms started. Then this older guy - Jonathan - he… he told me how to hide…”

His voice trailed off, Milo's hand having found the pressure point on the larger vampire's neck. Michael went limp on the operating table.

“You'll thank me later.”

  


 

Rocking.

Constant rocking.

For a month and a half, all Michael knew was the constant rocking of the boat, the smell of salt water and other people, and the desperation of wanting to find land. Everyone was in close quarters and many had died - bodies were usually thrown overboard.

“Michael,” he heard someone calling him. Sitting up, he looked around in the dark of the room. Many people were sleeping, and his caller’s voice was hushed.

“Michael!”

Standing, Michael made his way toward the voice. Someone was standing near the doorway, ushering him up onto the main deck.

Wary, he followed. Outside, on the deck, it was quiet and dark. It must have been very late in the night. The spray of salt water was cool on his face, a small comfort after being stowed away so long.

“What do you want?”

“To talk to you.” Michael knew now who it was. Jonathan, Eliza's husband. The guy was always quiet - he seemed to be the type to want to be alone. Still, he approached Michael.

“About?”

“I've noticed you've been acting strange.” The older man crossed his arms and despite his short stature, made Michael freeze in place, “You've been secluding yourself since Mary passed, yes?”

Michael felt his heart drop. Mary had been one of the kindest women he'd known.

“And?”

“I'm not accusing you of anything, Michael, but--”

There was a long pause. Michael clenched his fists, nails digging into the palms of his hands.

“You did have some blood on your hands, didn't you?”

Jonathan spoke literally - Michael had, in fact, been found with blood on his hands as he brought Mary's limp body to the deck. After everything was said and done, when she'd been given a farewell and her injuries told off as an accident, he'd backed into the cargo hold to clean the rest of the mess.

Perhaps he'd been caught licking the blood from his fingers. Out of pure curiosity, of course.

Michael, at first, didn't understand where all the blood had come from.

“I… Are you implying that I killed her?”

“No, no, not that you killed her… but perhaps that her death might have been beneficial to you.”

Michael hated the way Jonathan smiled at that.

He also hated the fact that he was right.

 

 

When Michael finally came to, it was to the image of Milo's face hovering above him, grinning. With a huff, Michael pushed Milo aside, swinging his legs over the side of the operating table. His head spun for a few moments, but he recovered quickly.

“What did you even do, doc?”

“Oh, simple work. I made it easier for you to process energy from the blood you take in. There are a few extra chemicals in your body, but nothing to worry about.” Milo smiled, innocent - but Michael knew the guy was anything but.

“You won't need nearly as much blood. Or sleep. Much more efficient in the long run.”

“Yeah, yeah, same thing you did to Greg?”

“Precisely. Now, is there anything else you have planned?”

Michael thought for a moment.

Jonathan was probably out there somewhere.

“I might.”

 

 

Had Michael been anyone else, his search would have turned up nothing. But after some digging, he'd found where the old man was hiding out. Jonathan had taken a liking to the young vampire so many years ago. An hour away from their safe house, in a seemingly normal looking home in the countryside, he waited. For Michael.

He'd purposely left clues that only Michael would understand - throwbacks to their days on the ships, to their first touch of land…

They'd met a few more times with many years in between their first interaction. Michael recalled Boston, around the time of the revolution, he'd seen an older man smile at him from one of the groups of politicians and he'd known instantly who it was.

What Michael didn't know was that Jonathan had done quite a lot for himself - and, in waiting, for Michael - in his own time.

He'd learn, soon enough.

 

 

“Doc, how do you feel about going for a drive?” Michael grinned, watching Milo clean up his equipment. A week after the operation, and Michael was as active as ever - perhaps more so.

“What?” Turning, the older vampire narrowed his eyes at Michael. The way Michael was smiling at him made him suspect something was up.

“You making me talk about how I turned - it got me thinking.” Milo watched as Michael fiddled with one of the blades on the counter. “This guy, he's still around. Goes by the name Gray, now - maybe you've heard of him?”

“Gray… the robotics company?”

“That's the guy. Turns out he left some clues for me - Just me, seems I'm his favorite.”

“You think he might be willing to help you with all of… this?”

"Worth a shot." Michael shrugged, setting down the knife in his hand.

"If he's not with us, we have our defenses.” Milo grinned, and Michael felt a pulse of anger through him.

“You're not killing Gray.” Michael rounded on Milo, nearly pinning him in front of his chest. “If he’s not with us - slim chance - we’re leaving him alone. But I’ve got the feeling he’ll be on our side.”

“How can you be so sure?” Milo met Michael's eyes, determined not to let the larger vampire intimidate him.

“I'll explain it to you on the way. Come on,” He grabbed Milo's shoulder, pulling him along. Milo tensed, but he didn't push Michael away. As they made their way to the back of the building, Michael let go of him, but kept close.

Milo studied him - the way he had his shoulders squared as though ready for a fight, the muscles in his arms, large enough that he could probably crush a man's skull in one swift motion--

A grin slipped onto Milo's lips as he turned his gaze forward once more, thoughts of how he could use the larger vampire’s assets to benefit himself speeding to the front of his mind. The hall was quiet aside from the sound of their feet on the ground, broken glass and dust covering the tile in the less-used section of the decrepit hospital.

Keeping the silence, Milo brushed closer to Michael. He grazed the other vampire’s bare skin with his arm, receiving a quick glance his way.

Just to see what would happen, he winked.

Michael’s face flushed to the tips of his ears and he hurried forward with a soft curse, swinging open the door to the mostly empty lot outside.

Humming quietly to himself, Milo followed.

  
  


 

A week was more than enough time for the Engineer to come up with a more solid prototype of the gun he was planning to give to Medic. He’d delivered it one night in a large case and had gone down into the doctor’s basement to go over the details with him.

Sniper had been there - he’d taken to sleeping at the Medic’s home, all too comfortable with a larger bed and a warm body next to him.

And a week was enough time for Sniper to become comfortable with the idea of something more than what they'd started with. The first couple of nights he'd spent at the doctor's, they'd been unable to keep their hands off of each other, every slight touch turning into something more, attempts to lay down to sleep turning to hurried, hot presses of their bodies together.

A week later, the want was still there, but they seemed to have calmed enough to be civil with the Engineer around. A few glances, some well timed smiles, and they'd communicated silently their plans for after the man left.

Engineer was none the wiser, it seemed - or he just didn't care. He'd spent three hours tinkering with Medic's help, adjusting the gun to administer fumes strong enough to be felt even through clothing. The serum seemed to work on minor injuries, small bruises and cuts. They’d tested it on Sniper, who’d willingly cut his hand open while Medic was in the next room over.

The gun had whirred to life, pumping red liquid through its coils and the tank in the middle of the contraption, Sniper’s skin stitching together with no trace of scarring. He flexed his hand, looking at the Engineer with a wide grin across his face.

While they didn’t know if the gun would work for its true purpose, they at least knew it _worked_ in some way.

When Engineer left, he told them he'd call in the morning. Apparently they were ready to throw the gun into a field test.

  


 

That night, pressed close in the dark of Medic's bedroom, the Sniper proposed an idea.

“You could always test that cure on me, you know.”

Pausing in his kisses trailing up Sniper’s neck, Medic raised a brow.

“You're not infected,” he said, resting his chin on his shoulder. “And I'm not going to hurt you.”

“Not even to test your big invention?” Sniper pulled away enough to meet Medic's eyes. “Why not? It could be useful--”

“Sniper,” Medic attempted to speak.

“And it's not like you don't have other cures that work on recently bitten patients,”

“Sniper, listen. I'm not going to bite you.” Medic grasped the Sniper's hand in his own, staring into his eyes. “In fact, I don't even think you're capable of contracting anything like this. Your blood - there's something in it.”

“Something…?”

“I've been doing my best. Whatever you have in your blood, whatever makes it so absolutely _repulsive_ , that's what I need to isolate.”

“So… I'm immune or something?”

“Yes,” Medic sighed, letting go of Sniper's hand to run his fingers through his own hair. “It's amazing, really. Your blood, it… It's something amazing. I've been running tests, over and over, and it's always the same result. Your blood… to put it simply, your blood fights off any traces of vampirism, but just knowing that isn't enough to create a cure for someone like me.”

Sniper watched as Medic spoke, listening - he'd started to go into detail of the tests he'd been doing and Sniper lost all concentration on his words, not understanding any of the scientific jargon.

So he leaned in to kiss him again, stopping the doctor's spiel.

“Sorry,” Medic whispered, pulling barely an inch away from the kiss. “I get… far too excited about my work.”

“I know, doc.” Another kiss pressed to his lips, the conversation lost. “Forget I ever suggested anything.”

Medic smiled and Sniper mirrored the action, feeling heat return to his cheeks.

“You could suggest something else.”

The way the doctor flushed red, Sniper knew he was fine with that direction. Quietly, he set his hand on the doctor's thigh, his fingers pressing into the softness there.

A kiss was pressed to Medic's forehead, hands pushing him to lay down. He followed the insistent pushing, reaching up to pull the buttons of Sniper's shirt open. Sniper shuffled and pulled his shirt off, focusing on Medic's clothes. Thankfully, the doctor didn't wear his lab coat when they were simply spending time together. However, there was the complication of his tie and sweater vest.

Sniper, not being a large fan of ties, had to learn how to remove them from the other man over the course of the week.

He'd gotten pretty damn good at it - he was able to pull it free fairly quickly, now. Then came the vest.

He reached under the hem of the vest and began to pull it upward, but the way that Medic was already comfortably lying down was making it difficult. The doctor shifted and sat up slightly, nearly colliding with Sniper.

“Sorry,” he said, pulling the vest up over his head to toss aside. Before laying back down, he decided removing his shirt was the next best course of action. So he unbuttoned and shifted and dropped that beside the bed as well.

By then, Sniper had managed to get his shirt off. The Australian smiled, leaning in close for a long, slow kiss. Medic raised his hands to Sniper's shoulders, pulling him in close as he leaned back, taking in the feeling of his warmth.

The kiss broke with a pleased sigh from the both of them. Just as Medic was about to go for more, his hands sweeping downward, Sniper broke the silence.

“So, uh. Moritz,” he said, meeting the doctor's eyes. There was a pleased expression across Medic's face, the same one that appeared each time Sniper said his name.

“Hmm?” Moritz’s hands crept back upward, fingers finding Sniper's hair to tangle in.

“I wanted to tell you,” Sniper said, being pulled in closer, kisses pressed to his jaw. “My-- my name.”

“Your name?” Moritz repeated, eyes wide. He was still running his fingers through Sniper's hair, but he'd paused in his kisses. “But it could slip out when we're around others--”

“Don't worry. It won't matter. Trust me.” Sniper smiled, nudging close to kiss along the doctor's jaw on his own. “I want to hear you say it.”

Medic looked conflicted, but before he could say anything more, Sniper spoke, low and close to his ear.

“It's Robin.” Sniper's hands crept along the doctor's sides, pulling him close. He shifted, straddling the doctor, moving his hips in just the right way that there was slight friction between them, causing Medic to bite his lip.

A pause of silence fell between them as Sniper unconsciously rocked his hips.

“Robin,” Moritz said, and Sniper's face lit up in a smile. “ _Robin.”_

Within moments, Sniper was working his belt off, and focusing next on the doctor's belt. He leaned down, his kisses more insistent, tongue and lips meeting with his partner's. Medic's arms found their way around Sniper's torso, pulling him closer, hips pushing upward.

“I didn't realize your name would have such an effect on you.” Moritz said, urging Sniper into more, pushing at his pants, wanting to feel him.

“Haven't had anyone say my name since I got into this business,” Robin panted, not wanting to move off of his doctor but desperately wanting his pants off. With a huff, he shoved them away and worked at the button on Moritz's. Though his hands were shaking, he was able to get it undone within moments, pulling the last bits of Medic's clothes down.

They didn't make it completely off, instead bunched around the doctor's legs, but they didn't care - their main focus was each other, their hips grinding slowly against each other's.

Sniper leaned down to kiss Medic again, this time with more desperation and need. Moritz's hands were on his hips, pushing him closer. Their kisses were long but rough, Moritz's lips swelling with the bites Robin was leaving there.

Finally, finally, Robin leaned back and brought a hand around both of their cocks, stroking. He bit his lip as he fell into the feeling of it all, Medic's cock hard and hot alongside his own.

“Moritz, fuck, I want you.” He tilted his head back, hips moving with each slide of his hand. The doctor whined, staring up at his Sniper.

“You've got me, schatz, I promise,” Moritz swallowed harshly, fingers digging into Robin's hips. Sniper shook his head, pushing air from his mouth.

“No, doc,” his hips stuttered, breath hitching as Moritz's hand joined his on their cocks. “I want you in me, I want you to fuck me.”

He felt Moritz twitch, his hips bucking slightly. Sniper leaned forward, shooing the doctor's hands away as he ground against him, their cocks pressed between them. Medic's hands found his back, blunt nails digging in to his skin. Sniper, on the other hand, found purchase with his teeth on Medic's shoulder, unable to focus on much else than their combined pleasure.

Words were lost to them - instead, they communicated with the twitches of their bodies, the slide of their skin, hot against each other. Sniper's teeth lessened their harsh pressure against Medic's shoulder, giving up his hold to rest his forehead against the spot he'd bitten.

He was content to roll his hips, to get off on top of the doctor with their cocks slick against each other. But Medic teased him further - his hands slipped from his hips to his ass, pulling him closer, closer--

The doctor spread him, his finger finding that pucker Sniper wanted him inside so desperately. He didn't push inside, wouldn't dare without the proper lubrication, but he did tease, his finger brushing over that sensitive little spot.

Sniper keened, grinding his hips down harder, panting against the doctor's ear. It was only a few more moments, gentle touches along the cleft of his ass and toward that spot he wanted most, before Sniper was cumming between them, hips bucking as he rode out his orgasm.

The feeling of that heat between them combined with the loud moan of Sniper's climax pushed Medic toward that edge, desperately pushing against Sniper as he came down from his high. Sensitive, Sniper gasped as Medic pushed against his hips with his hands, palms hot. But he didn't pull away, simply allowing the doctor to do as he pleased, hiding his face against his neck.

Moments later, Medic gasped, head thrown back as his own orgasm overtook him. Sniper ground down harder, groaning as the feeling was just too much, but allowing the doctor to take as much as he needed.

When Medic stopped moving, his hips stilling, he realized there was quite the mess between them.

But there was no way he was going to be getting up in the next several minutes to clean it up. Not when he was so relaxed under Sniper, who had his face tucked up under his chin comfortably.

In a few minutes, he told himself, willing himself to stay awake, despite the exhaustion creeping over his mind.

Sniper, however, kissed his neck and slowly pulled away, whispering something about getting a towel. Medic only nodded, stretching.

He was the happiest he'd been in centuries. 

  



End file.
